Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 107306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
“You should be smart and use that gun on me because if you don’t, you’re fucking dead.” He takes a step closer, arms in the air. “Right here.” He points to the center of his forehead. “Shoot.”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I’ve never seen someone with a gun pointed at them talk like this before. It makes my skin pebble with uncertainty but also flicks a strange, curious switch inside me. The cold stare of his ice-blue eyes makes me tremble…something I shouldn’t be thinking right now.
“Tick-tock,” he says with both coldness and amusement in his tone.
One look down his body, and I see the familiar bulge of a gun. Definitely not your normal, run-of-the-mill spoiled college kid. I have no idea who he is, but this just got a whole lot more interesting.
“Don’t move.” I keep the gun pointed at him, shove his shirt up, and tug his piece out. He doesn’t try to fight me, which has my senses on alert. Seconds ago, I thought this guy was an easy target, but being face-to-face with him, I sense the danger beneath the surface, the uncontrollable energy rolling off him.
I shove his gun into my hoodie pocket. “Give me your money and your keys,” I order.
“Sure.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal and pulls his wallet out. “A word of advice…look over your shoulder every second of every day from now on. You won’t know when I’m going to find you…but I will find you. It’ll be fun to play with you, torture you. You’re lucky I’m bored, or I wouldn’t be indulging you. You’re giving me someone to hunt later.”
“Fuck you,” I say just as he tosses a stack of hundred-dollar bills at me. Who the hell is this guy? He’s someone important, and this is a big-ass mistake on my part. But there’s no turning back now. I keep my gun pointed at him, watching him as I kneel, pick up the money, and shove it all in my pocket.
He tosses his keys on the ground, then smiles at me when I take those too.
“You have no idea, do you? I’m guessing you’re new here.”
He would be guessing right, but it’s not as if I’ll confirm that.
“I hope that money is to help you leave town.”
His cockiness, his whole holier-than-thou persona, makes me see red. He might be dangerous, but he’s still spoiled. It doesn’t take a genius to see that. It’s killing me not to say anything, but I don’t want to accidentally give something away.
“Oooh. You’re pissed. I see it in your eyes. What did I say to make you mad, little boy? Or is it because you expected me to be scared, instead of telling you that when you die, mine will be the last face you see. I’m excited. This’ll be fun.”
My whole body flushes with heat, anger bubbling up inside me like shaken soda, ready to explode. Fuck this prick.
But then…then when I look at him again, eyes trailing down his body, there’s a bulge that wasn’t there before. This son of a bitch is turned on by what’s happening. I don’t know how to respond to that, why a part of me knows it’s fucked up, yet it makes me even more curious about him.
Before I can dwell on it too long, I swing my arm, hitting him in the head with the butt of my gun. He drops to the ground, and I run. I throw his keys across the lot, don’t stop until I’m back in my car. Seconds later, I’m peeling away from the curb, pulse pounding, an unexpected smile on my face.
CHAPTER THREE
Rory
“Hey, bro. Are you okay?”
My eyes flutter open, the lights overhead bright and making my eyes hurt. Fuck. That stupid bastard hit me hard. I wonder how long I was out.
“You good?” the dude kneeling beside me asks again.
“José?” It’s the guy I was supposed to meet. My head throbs, but I manage to ignore it.
“Yeah. I thought you stood me up. I came outside just as the guy took off. I saw him throw your keys.”
I nod, wincing as I try to push myself to sit up and lean against the wall. My head is killing me. I’ve hit a lot of people upside the head with a gun but never had it done to me. Can’t say I’m a fan.
“Get my keys,” I tell him.
He frowns, but probably sensing my anger, doesn’t respond. The second he walks away, I call Tiernan.
“This better be important,” he says, voice husky with sleep.
“Got hit. Fucking robbed, if you can believe that shit. Knocked me in the head. Not sure if I can drive and definitely want to figure out who in the fuck did this.”
“We’ll be right there.” Tiernan is a man of few words, but the ones he does say always count.