Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 136048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
And there, in the center of the room, is a stack of brown wooden boxes with red warning labels painted on the side reading CAUTION: EXPLOSIVES.
“No,” I cry, my feet barely able to keep up as Knight hauls me away from the room and toward the very edge of the ship, his hand not daring to break away from mine as the flames roar toward the room of explosives.
He grabs for his radio again, his words bellowed across the ship. “ABORT NOW,” he commands his team, his tone full of fear for every one of the lives he’s responsible for. “EXPLOSIVES ON DECK. ABORT NOW.”
My eyes are wide, and as I stare around the chaos, I watch men in black tactical gear leap off the edge of the massive ship, not a single care for who is currently shooting at them. They simply throw themselves into the cold water below, trusting Knight implicitly.
As we race toward the edge, Knight grips my hand tighter, calling over his shoulder toward me. “Don’t let go of my hand,” he demands. “Just like at the waterfall. Don’t fucking let go.”
“I won’t,” I promise, and with that, he effortlessly scoops me into his arms without missing a step, and in the blink of an eye, he launches us off the edge of the ship. Just as gravity pushes us toward the pitch-black water below, the ship explodes, sending a wave of fiery rubble shooting around us just moments before we drop straight into the depths of the ocean.
43
KNIGHT
The soft beep of Izzy’s heart rate monitor sounds through the cramped hospital room. Honestly, I feel like I’ve spent more time in these rooms than some of the doctors have. Perhaps it’s time to buy shares in the hospital, though I truly hope this is the end of this bullshit.
Elias is nothing more than fish food, along with the men he hired to do his dirty work, and Mae is rocking a nice orange jumpsuit. And no, orange is not her color. As for the twins, they’re safe in their parents’ arms, and while I haven’t had a chance to catch up with Jonah yet, I’m sure he has every intention of making sure those little girls get whatever help they need to process everything they witnessed over the past twenty-four hours.
Harper has been itching to get out of here and see the girls. She holds the weight of everything that happened on her shoulders, and while she’s spoken to Jonah and Emily and checked in on the girls over the phone, she won’t be able to sleep until she sees the twins in the flesh and can see for herself that they’re unharmed.
Ace and Diesel sit across the room, trying not to take up too much space, but they’re big guys, and they can’t fucking help it. And seeing as Harper demanded that her bed be wheeled in next to Izzy’s, there’s not an inch of space to move inside this room.
I sit in Harper’s bed with her, her body snuggled up next to me as she mindlessly scrolls through social media, but I don’t think she’s actually seeing any of it, just scrolling on autopilot as she waits for her best friend to wake.
Despite Harper’s objections, she’s only here for observation. Her chin had a nasty gash on it, and her body was covered with the evidence of my brother’s brutality. I could see where he whipped her with a belt, where he scratched her, where her face was slammed against the headboard, but they’re all superficial injuries that will fade with time. There are burns on her arms and legs and scratches from the explosion, but for the most part, she got lucky. Considering everything she went through, coming away with superficial injuries, a concussion, and a shitload of trauma to process is about as good as it gets.
The thought of what could have happened has kept me up throughout the night. There were at least forty men on that ship, and my only guess is that they had no idea that Harper was there, bound and ready to be used in whatever way my brother saw fit. If they knew, I’m sure I would have found a different version of the woman in my arms, and while I’d do anything to have been able to keep any of this from happening, I’m just grateful that her heart is still beating, and my brother’s is not.
What she had to do to survive . . . fuck. It’ll be a long road of healing for Harper, but she’s strong. She’ll make it through, and I’ll be right here for her to lean on when it becomes too hard, ready to take the burden off her shoulders.
Harper sighs in my arms before putting her phone down. Her gaze shifts toward Izzy, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest. “She should have woken up already,” Harper murmurs, her fingers finding mine.