Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 176012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 176012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
Every muscle in my body tenses, and I walk out of the surveillance room, keeping my eyes peeled. “Who is this?”
I try to harden my voice, but it comes out with a shake.
“I’m the one who left it open for you.”
The smirk in his tone crawls up my spine.
Drifting into the great room, I spin slowly, scanning every corner. “Why?” I ask.
“I wanted to see what you would do.”
So he was in here. In my shop too. Is he the one who left the phone that night?
“What will you do?” he inquires.
“Are you Deacon?” I press instead. “Or Manas?”
His low, deep laugh curls into my ear, making me uneasy. “You caught up quickly.”
“How do you know I haven’t been piecing it together with my family since the beginning?”
“Because I hear their conversations too,” he retorts before adding. “Quinn.”
My skin crawls. He knows my name.
Maybe it wouldn’t be hard to figure out. All anyone has to do is look at my website.
But I stifle a shiver anyway. He’s watched me from behind the mirror. At night. In the early morning when I was alone.
I swallow to wet my dry throat. “Where are you?”
“On the roof.”
I shoot my eyes up to the hatch, seeing my bike chain still wrapped around the handle.
“Don’t bother texting for help,” he tells me. “I’m better at this than you are.”
I back away, ascending the two steps up to the kitchen where I can keep an eye on the tunnel toward my shop and still watch the roof hatch.
“Where is Manas?”
“Still in New Orleans, I’d imagine. But he’ll be here soon.” Deacon’s voice is casual. “It won’t be hard for him to figure out where I went.”
I wasn’t sure which one he was. I simply guessed based off the impression I got from the others at the party last night. Deacon seemed like the one they worried about more.
I can almost feel his breath in my ear. “Open the door,” he whispers.
I watch the roof, my heart pounding painfully. “No.”
“He watches you, you know?” Without missing a beat. “All the time.”
“Who?”
“You know who.”
Lucas?
“He might never act on it,” Deacon explains. “He’s very conflicted, that one. He knows what’s going to happen, but he still fights it.”
Oh my God.
He’s watching him too.
“But deep down inside,” he goes on, “he would give you anything you wanted and do anything you asked.”
The hair on my arms rises. I’m scared, but I want to know. “How do you know that?” I murmur.
“When he’s close to you, nothing moves.” Deacon’s voice is breathy, soft. “Just his chest. It means his heart is beating faster, and he’s trying to hide it.”
I close my eyes, sparklers firing everywhere under my skin.
“He’s afraid of a lot,” Deacon adds.
Is he?
How is he noticing this? No one else does. Or they don’t talk to me about it anyway. Not Madoc or Fallon. Not Dylan. No one else seems to notice what I do.
Until now.
I knew Lucas paid me a lot of attention these past few days. He was invasive, protective, almost possessive. Constantly there.
Did he stay because of me?
“What do you want?” I ask.
“I want to watch you.”
Watch me do what?
“Were you following me the other night?” I question instead. “In the green car?”
“The what?”
“The old black Dodge.”
He doesn’t reply for a moment, as if he’s surprised.
“That wasn’t me,” he finally says. “Interesting.”
Why’s it interesting? He didn’t ask what the car did or why I was worried about it. Does that mean he knows it?
“You sound like a popular girl,” he offers.
Enough. “What do you want?”
“I want to watch you.”
“Watch me do what?”
“Have your own secrets,” he replies. “Hawke and Aro were sweet. Hot and sweet to each other. Dylan and Hunter were alive. Volatile and alive.”
My stomach knots, and I narrow my eyes. He’s been watching us for years.
“But you’re the one I’ve been looking forward to,” he says in a breathless tone. “You excite me.”
“Because I look like her?”
The line falls silent, and I can’t believe the question came out before I could stop myself. I wait as one second stretches to ten, and I can’t even hear Deacon breathe.
I shouldn’t have asked that. It would be stupid of me not to assume this guy is dangerous, and who knows what will trigger him?
“Hello?” I say.
I check the phone, seeing the call is still connected, but he’s not talking. I mean to ask him about the phone he left. What was on it and why did he want me to have it? What about the diary? Did he leave that too?
But I watch the ceiling door, my skin crawling at his silence. I end the call and set my phone down, keeping my eyes trained above.
I’ve got a lot of men in my life all of a sudden. I can’t tell anyone about this one, though. They’ll react just when I’m gaining some freedom.