Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 47615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
“The son of a bitch is following Ada,” Knight said in a low growl. He’d been saying something before that, but I’d been too focused on Jag for a precious few seconds and missed the lead-in.
“You need to check on all the women,” Jag said, his voice deadly calm. “If he’s targeting Ada because of her connection to the club, he might go after others.”
“Hannah’s already on it,” Knuckles said. “All the old ladies have been told to stay at the compound. Club girls too.”
“What about the women at the shelter?” I asked, thinking of the families who had sought refuge there.
“Extra security’s already in place,” Gunnar assured me. “No one gets within a block without us knowing.”
“We need something that doesn’t make them feel like prisoners,” I insisted, looking around at the grim faces. “These women have already escaped one cage. They can’t feel like they’ve traded it for another.”
My words hung in the air. Jag’s eyes met mine, something unreadable flickering in their depths.
“She’s right,” he said quietly. “Security that feels like confinement will do more harm than good.”
Knight nodded slowly. “I’ll work with Hannah on making it less obvious. But in the meantime” -- he slid a keycard across the desk to me --”you’re staying at the compound until we neutralize this threat. That’s not a request, Ada.”
I expected to feel resentment at being ordered around, even by my brother. Instead, the weight of the situation, of seeing myself being watched without knowing it, settled in my chest like a stone.
“I won’t argue,” I said, taking the keycard. “I’ve been thinking about moving closer to the shelter anyway. This just speeds up the timeline.”
Relief flashed across Knight’s face, quickly masked by his usual gruff expression. “Good. You’ll take the unit two doors down from Jag. It’s ready.”
My eyes flicked to Jag, finding him already watching me. Something electric passed between us, brief but undeniable. His jaw tightened, and he looked away.
I nodded. “Sounds good,” I answered softly.
When the meeting was dismissed, I headed to the building I’d been assigned to and stepped inside the lift. My shoulders tensed with the weight of everything I’d just learned. The keycard dug into my palm where I’d been clutching it too hard. Rat Man. A disgusting image for a disgusting man. Now he watched me, had followed me without my knowledge. The thought made my skin crawl, yet somehow I felt more angry than afraid. No one had the right to hunt me.
I stepped off the lift into the hallway. I needed a moment to myself, to process everything without the intensity of my brother breathing down my neck. Or Jag. Strangely, his gaze had been on me every time I glanced his way since Knight showed the footage of me being followed. Given I had a stalker I hadn’t known about, his attention should probably creep me out. Instead, I felt protected, like he was watching out for me whether I wanted him to or not. If it had been anyone other than someone in Kiss of Death, I’d have run from the compound at the first opportunity. But the club Jag knew and the club I knew were vastly different, even if they were the same club.
I was nearly to my room when I sensed rather than heard someone behind me. A presence, nothing more. I spun around, not sure what to expect. Jag stood three steps behind me, his expression unreadable.
“Jesus Christ,” I breathed, my hand pressed against my chest. “Make a noise next time.”
“Sorry,” he said, though he didn’t sound particularly apologetic. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You didn’t scare me,” I lied. “Just… startled me. I mean, after that meeting and all.”
“I’ll walk you to your room,” he said, his voice low and rough. Not a request. Not quite an order either.
Before I could respond, his fingers circled my wrist, surprisingly gentle despite the calluses that rasped against my skin. The touch sent an unexpected current up my arm, making my breath catch. His thumb rested against my pulse point, and I knew he could feel my heartbeat quicken beneath his touch.
“I know where it is,” I said, the words coming out softer than I intended.
“I know you do.” His eyes held mine. “I’m still walking you.”
Jag released my wrist but stayed beside me, close enough that our arms occasionally brushed. Each brief contact sent little sparks across my skin. I found I wanted to “accidentally” tangle my fingers with his just to see what he’d do.
I stole a glance at his profile. His jaw was tense, a muscle jumping beneath the stubble. Whatever was happening between us, he felt it too. The keycard in my hand felt hot, a reminder of why I was headed to temporary quarters instead of back to my own home. Because someone was watching me. Because I might be in danger.