Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 78487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“Fuck this,” I growl, shoving my cell into my cut and grabbing my keys off the bedside table.
But before I can leave, Paw appears in the doorway.
The look on his face sets off warning bells in my head. “What?”
He has a laptop in his hands, and he holds it up. “You need to see this.”
On the screen is the software he uses for facial recognition.
“You ran a check on Rory? Why the fuck would you do that?”
“She’s not who she says she is, Ares.”
“Fuck you.”
“You know it’s protocol.”
I want to throat punch him for looking into my girl’s past. But he’s right. Anyone who gets close to the Kings is subject to a background check.
Ares, there is something I need to tell you.
My stomach tightens with unease.
And I take it out on Paw.
“I don’t give a fuck what you found out. I know who she is.”
“No, you don’t.”
I brush past him, but he stops me and shoves the laptop into my chest. “Read it.”
I glance down, and immediately something catches my eye.
Her name isn’t Rory Jones.
It’s Aurora Murphy.
My stomach knots as I read on.
It also tells me that her stepfather, a seedy sonofabitch called Donnie Hatzakorian, is very, very dead.
He was murdered a year ago.
So why the fuck did she come all the way to Tennessee and ask me to kill a dead man?
ARES
She opens the door, and my stomach drops when I see her face.
She’s been crying. It also looks like she hasn’t slept at all.
My instinct is to reach for her, but I don’t.
“What are you doing here?” Her voice is soft.
Over her shoulder, I see two packed suitcases, and the knot in my chest tightens. I look back at her, but she’s looking down, a frown pressed into her forehead.
“Don’t,” she whispers.
I brush past her to enter her apartment. “You’re leaving me?” I can’t hide the desperation in my voice.
“I have to go, Ares.”
“Where?” I bite out through gritted teeth.
“Back to Boston.”
The chaos in my head spins wildly, and it’s hard to contain my emotions. My fists clench, my face tightens.
She’s fucking leaving me.
I storm over to her. “I tell you I’m in love with you, and you pack your fucking bags?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me why.”
“Because I didn’t come here to fall in love.” She lifts her gaze. “I came here to kill you.”
What.
The.
Ever.
Loving.
Fuck?
Her words echo around the room and then hit me right in the goddamn heart like a bullet.
I don’t move as my head scrambles to work it out.
She’s here to kill me?
None of this makes sense.
My pulse races in my neck, my heart a time bomb ticking wildly toward detonation.
She doesn’t love me.
For a split second, my knees falter.
Then my emotions roar out of me.
I see the Ruger that had been hidden behind the sugar canister sitting on the countertop. I grab it and slap it into her hand.
“Then do it,” I demand.
Because at that moment, I can’t stand the pain.
I’ll welcome death with open fucking arms.
When she doesn’t move, I grab the barrel and press the tip to my forehead.
“Do it!” I growl.
I see the war take place inside her. See the confusion. The pain. The havoc. She came looking for me so she could put a bullet in my skull. Well, here’s your damn chance.
“What are you waiting for?” I growl, pieces of my heart still splintering through my body.
“Stop it,” she growls back.
“You want me dead, then fucking do it.”
She lifts her chin, searching the corners of her mind for her next move. To pull the trigger or not. She doesn’t fight me. Instead, she clicks the magazine release on the Ruger, and the clip falls to the floor between us. She knows the gun won’t fire without the magazine attached.
Frustrated, I throw the inoperable firearm across the room. For a moment, we’re both silent. Yet inside, I’m anarchy. So I grab her by the jaw and force her backward until her back hits the wall. I squeeze her chin, my agony getting the better of me. But she isn’t afraid. Her haunted eyes don’t leave me, they’re tear-filled and sad. But I don’t scare her, not as much as what is taking place inside her does. A lone tear escapes and slides down her cheek.
“Why?” It’s all I can manage. It’s the only word screaming inside my head, a tornado of chaos turning circles in my brain.
Her chin quivers and another tear falls. “Because you killed my brother.”
RORY
Immediately, he lets me go, and I slump against the wall, exhaling sharply.
“Your brother?”
I look at him for the first time since he released me. “Joey Murphy.”
The moment the name registers in Ares’ brain, his expression morphs into complete surprise. But it’s quickly replaced with fury, his eyes the darkest I’ve ever seen.
“Fuck.” He turns away and runs his hand over his head, then swings back to me. “Joey Murphy was your brother?”