Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 110089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Leo pads beside me, tongue lolling. I stick to the shadows, circling the far edge of the house. Instinct says not to risk the front. Cameras and motion sensors are probably all around us. I don’t see them, but I feel them. Justice wouldn’t leave a blind spot.
Justice. Just thinking his name slows me down. He left hours ago, but his presence lingers like smoke. I should be running faster, but all I can picture is the way he looked at me. The way he kissed me. The way he cooks like it’s second nature and then turns around and threatens to kill somebody in the same breath. I should hate him. I should fear him. I do. But not enough. Not nearly enough.
If I’m smart, I’ll keep moving. Freedom’s right there. But my feet drag. My chest knots tight. Out there, it’s nothing but woods and darkness. Alone. On the run again. With a dog that already owns my heart.
Wait a minute. There has to be an easier way. Man, I’m off balance. Where’s my brain? I tug Leo back inside, pulse pounding. The house is silent, every shadow too thick, every corner alive with secrets. We pad toward the kitchen, floorboards whispering beneath our feet.
We reach the garage door, and I freeze. My hand hovers over the handle. Freedom is one tug away. But the thought of leaving feels heavier than staying. I’ve never hesitated like this before. Yeah, the sex was great, and there’s a computer hub somewhere near me that I want to reach. But I can’t find the basement door.
I whisper to Leo, more to myself than him, but still open the door to the garage. “What the hell am I doing?”
Silence.
No alarms. No buzzers. Nothing. The quiet is wrong, pressing in on me, heavier than sound. My skin crawls. “Okay,” I whisper, gripping his scruff. “If there’s an alarm, it’s quiet. We run.”
We slip into the garage. The air smells like oil and rubber. The space feels too empty, too clean, like it’s waiting. And then I see it.
Silver. Low to the ground. Curves that look poured, not built. The car’s hood bears a red prancing horse, and my stomach lurches. It’s a LaFerrari Aperta. I’ve only seen one in pictures. Limited edition. The kind of car collectors hoard and show off at auctions. It shouldn’t be here.
A laugh bursts out of me, quick and shaky. “That’s a nice car.”
Leo’s tail thumps the floor as I hurry to the car and open the passenger side door. He bounds inside, claws clicking against the leather, circles once, and drops to sit.
I slide into the driver’s seat. The leather fits my butt like it’s molded just for me, warm and luxurious. The console glows faint blue, waiting. The keys sit in a tray, casual, like Justice could walk in and leave again at any second.
I grab the fob and press the start button. The engine doesn’t purr—it detonates. A roar tears through the garage, vibrating in my ribs. My hands shake. Fear spikes inside me, but exhilaration crashes over it, fast and addictive. For the first time tonight, my lips twitch into a grin. “This is going to be fun.” The garage door grinds up, and I throw the vehicle into drive. Rain spits in, streaking the windshield in crooked lines. This car doesn’t deserve storms, but we don’t have a choice. Leo pants beside me, eyes bright, and I know he’s all in.
“Yeah,” I mutter, pressing the gas. “We’re really doing this.” I can’t let Justice have the code to the virus. Or my heart. Definitely not my heart.
The main drive stretches out, slick black under the rain. Flashlights blaze between the trees, jerky beams searching. Guards. Of course.
I slam my foot on the accelerator. The Ferrari launches forward like it’s been starving, tires gripping the asphalt with a precision I’ve never felt. Justice didn’t pave this driveway for comfort. He paved it for speed.
The end of the drive comes too fast. I stomp the brakes, tires shrieking, and the car fishtails before correcting. A wrought-iron gate blocks the exit, hidden in the trees until now. I didn’t see it when we came in. No wonder he felt just fine about leaving me here alone.
“Damn it.” My fingers fly across the console, hitting switches I don’t recognize. Nothing.
Leo growls, low and warning, his body braced.
A shack to the right bursts with light. Men pour out, flashlights slicing through the rain. I can’t see their faces, but I feel their attention, sharp and focused.
My pulse pounds so hard it hurts. “Shit.” I stab another button. The gate groans, jerks, and finally starts to slide. Too slow. Way too slow. “Finally.” My chest is tight, hands welded to the wheel. Adrenaline rips through me, hot and sharp, and I don’t look away from the opening. “Now hold on, Leo.”