Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 97364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
He wants to keep an eye on Braxton, so his flat has to face the street. That still doesn’t narrow it down enough, but it’s a start. I begin at the top floor, assuming he’d want to be up a ways. Door after door, I knock and knock. When I’m lucky enough to get an answer, I go through my spiel describing him, but no one knows who I’m talking about. Of course he’s not exactly going to be the one in the block throwing parties, but he’s not exactly someone you don’t notice either.
I’m running out of time. Without knowing where he went, I have no idea when he’ll be back, but it’s been over an hour since he left. I knock on the last door on the fourth floor, feeling a bit defeated.
“Yes?” A ponytailed blonde answers the door, jogging in place. “Sorry, you caught me in the middle of a workout.”
“Oh, sorry. I’m looking for Theodore Reed, he’s about six—”
“Yes, Theo. Nice guy. His apartment is that one.” She points to the door just to the right of hers. The one I just knocked on, and of course, no one answered.
“Are you okay?” she asks, bouncing up and down.
I must look a bit dazed. I’d given up on finding it. “Yeah. Thanks. I knocked. He’s not home, so I’ll come back later.”
“Do you want me to tell him you stopped by if I see him?”
I don’t really want happy, bouncy tits to see him at all. “No. No need. Thank you.”
As she waves and starts to shut her door, I notice something familiar behind her, near her window. Phoebe! I recognized the green ceramic pot.
“Wait!” I bang the toe of my shoe into her door to prevent it from closing.
“Yes?”
“That’s my plant!”
She glances over her shoulder then back at me. “Excuse me?”
“Theo gave you that plant, didn’t he?” Bastard!
“Uh … yes, but—hey!”
I shove past her, stepping over her minefield of clutter to rescue my peace lily. “It’s mine. Sorry, he had no right to give it to you.” I grab the doorknob and slam her door shut before she has a chance to protest anymore.
New plan. I’m going to kill him.
I glance at the door to the stairwell and then the door to the lift. He could show up any minute. He could also put a bullet in Braxton Ames’s head before morning. I pick his lock and shut the door behind me, locking it again. I can’t help but grin. It’s bare in here except for a folding chair. Then I look at Phoebe in my arms and my smile vanishes.
Bastard!
With one shift of my gaze to the window, even the plant is forgotten. There’s a rifle mounted onto a tripod. I open the door to the right. It’s a bathroom. I put Phoebe in the bath and run a little water. The poor thing looks like a dead jelly fish. Bouncy tits is clueless.
The other door is to a bedroom—mattress on the floor, trunk next to it. I can strip down naked on his bed and wait. He’ll see me. I’ll give him a bollocking for giving Phoebe away—again. We’ll fuck like rabid animals. He’ll forget why he came to Lexington.
Yeah, right.
I tug on the trunk. It must weigh several hundred pounds, so I unlock it. Everything looks about the same, except the missing rifle that’s now perched by the window. I run back out and tug open drawers and cupboards in the kitchen until I find a bin bag. Then I hustle back to the bedroom and start filling it with weapons.
“The rifle.” I frown at the bag that’s full and remove some of the knives. Figuring out how to remove the rifle from the tripod eats up almost ten minutes. I can disarm a state-of-the-art security system in less than sixty seconds but a simple tripod has me completely perplexed.
I’m sure the rifle comes apart, but hell if I know how to do that. I shove it into the bag and lift the heavy thing up. The end of the rifle busts through.
“Shit.” I grab another bag and double bag everything. Then I glance out the window. No Theo, yet. Lugging weapons in bin bags is not ideal.
“Need help?” A young man with scraggly dark hair and a pathetic excuse for a beard asks as I heave it into the lift.
“Thank you. I’m good. Just some … stuff I’m donating.”
He nods as the lift starts to descend.
“After you.” He holds out his arm when the door opens.
Manners can have a downside. With my luck, one of the guns is loaded and will go off, killing this poor bloke before I get the bag dragged out of the building.
“Thank you.” I grunt, lifting the bag.
“Here.”
“No!”
Before I can stop him, he has the bag hoisted up. I hold my breath.