Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 22751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
"You do have a knack for it," Juliet laughs.
"We all have our talents," Niks jokes before growing serious again. "I'm going to pull any patrol vehicles around here so nothing scares him off. Are we still good with that?"
"We are," Maverick says before any of us can respond.
"All right, I'm going to get things wrapped up and leave you to it." She gives us a nod before heading out.
"You really think he'll try to break in here?” I ask. That seems so extreme, but I suppose my father does most things to that extent.
"Fuck, I hope so." Maverick smirks giddily at the idea.
"He will,” Wynn says. “I would if someone took you from me." He cups my cheek in his hand as his face grows stern. “But I’d never let that happen.”
His words aren’t flippant; they are a vow. One that I know he’ll always make true.
CHAPTER
SIXTEEN
WYNN
We’ve been waiting for a few hours, and it’s close to midnight. The gym is mostly empty except for a few people we asked to be here. Maverick put the word out that we needed privacy tonight, and with all the underground fighting this place does, everyone got the message. They understood that shit was going down and they needed to steer clear.
“Well, at least I won’t have to do this again for a while,” Maverick says as I fold another towel and stack it next to the pile.
“I guess if being a doctor doesn’t work out, I’ve got this to fall back on,” I tell him as I grab the last one.
“Meh, I’ve seen better.” He cracks a hint of a smile as he neatly arranges the piles together and then starts putting them in his arms.
We’ve folded about ten loads of towels for the gym, but it’s kept me busy. I don’t mind the quiet work because it means I’m not pacing and it calms my brain.
“I’ll go grab the last load from the laundry.”
“All right. I’ll take these up front,” he says before we head in opposite directions.
The laundry is located in the utility room down in the basement of the building. I have to take the back stairs to get down there, and the only light comes from the emergency exit sign. When I get there, the dryer is almost finished, so I decide to wait. There are several washers and dryers down here along with extra equipment for the gym. It’s a catch-all for the most part, but with concrete floors and not much lighting, it could very well feature in a horror movie. On top of that, the old dryer is loud, which is why I don’t hear someone coming up behind me until it’s too late.
“Turn around,” Boris says, and I feel him press a gun to my lower back. “Slowly.”
“You don’t have to do this,” I say as I do what he says. I raise my hands to show him I’m not armed but otherwise remain still. “It’s not too late to turn yourself in.”
Every time I’ve seen Boris Walton, he’s been dressed like he’s about to walk into a courtroom. His hair is always perfectly styled, and his smile is smug like he knows nothing will ever stick to him.
The Boris Walton standing in front of me now could not be any more different. He’s wearing jogging pants and a zip-up hoodie with sweat stains around the pits. His hair is messy and unclean, and he looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks. The dark circles under his eyes make him seem strung out, but for all I know, he could be on drugs.
“Where is she?” he hisses as his eyes dart around frantically.
“She’s not here.” I try to keep my voice calm and even, but he’s not having it.
“You’re fucking lying. I’ve been watching this place all night. She hasn’t left.” He uses the sleeve of his hoodie to wipe his nose, and I see white residue on it. Yeah, he’s definitely put something up there. “If you don’t tell me where she is, I’ll kill you and then I’ll find her on my own.”
“I guess that’s what you do, isn’t it?”
“What?” Boris’s eyes snap back to me with confusion.
“You kill the people that get in your way.” His expression changes to anger as he takes a step toward me. “What I don’t understand is why you had to kill your wife. She seemed perfectly fine covering up for you.”
“She was fine,” he snaps, and sweat runs down his forehead. “Until you came along.”
I’m surprised by this admission because I tried to talk to her, tried to get her to leave or report him. Every time I treated her, she refused to tell me anything or let the police get involved.
“She was planning to leave me.” He lets out a humorless laugh. “Me! Can you believe it? You got in her head, and the next thing I knew she was saying she was going to tell everyone what I’d done to her.”