Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
That gets my attention. “Who’s fighting with Dad, anyway?”
“It’s a Turkish crew. They moved into town a couple of years back and ever since have been growing bigger and stronger every year. A few weeks ago, some of our guys got into a bar fight with some of their guys that left one of theirs dead. Now it’s a whole goddamn thing. The floodgates are open and blood’s rushing through. I think the Turks are using their boy’s death as an excuse to move on your dad’s turf, but it doesn’t matter.” He shakes his head and leans back in the seat, crossing his arms over his chest. “They’re run by this guy they called the Butcher of Budapest. It’s not very original, but it’s got a nice ring, and he’s allegedly a real piece of work. I don’t think he’d hesitate to kill you if it meant hurting the Halloran clan, which is why I’m here.”
I let that sink in. Turkish organized crime and violence. The Butcher of Budapest brings to mind bodies sliced to pieces and left to rot in the street. “I don’t think I even know any Turkish people,” I say softly.
“Well, you’re going to.” He looks grim as the train slowly grinds to a halt at 30th Street Station. I jump up and shuffle past him, extremely aware of how close he is, heart racing, suddenly unable to sit on the train for a second longer. He follows after me as I descend to the station, climb the steps to the palatial upper section filled with marble columns and high ceilings and huge polished tiles on the floor, and use my phone to order an Uber to go home.
Rian sticks close the whole time. Not right on my hip, but near enough that I see him in the corner of my eye. 30th Street’s busy even this late at night, and I think about losing him in the crowd. Instead, I go out front and wait for my car.
“We can make this work,” he says again as he stands next to me. I do my best to ignore him. The rain’s still coming down, and I’m safe under my umbrella.
He whistles loudly and waves as a cab starts past. The taxi pulls over and he grabs my arm. “This ride’s on your father,” he says, steering me to it.
“Wait, I already ordered a car.”
“Cancel it.” He’s frowning and looking over his shoulder. “Get the fuck in.”
I want to protest, but he’s dragging me fast. He shoves me in the back and climbs in after. The cabbie frowns into the rearview mirror but doesn’t seem particularly upset, like it’s every day some massive guy shoves a girl into the back of his cab. Rian gives the driver my address, and the taxi pulls out before I have a chance to wonder how the hell he knows where I live.
But it’s obvious. I’m sure Rian got an entire dossier on my life, from birth to present day, the moment he accepted this job. I wonder if he glossed over his own role in everything. I wonder if he still thinks about that night and what the world lost.
The taxi parks outside of my apartment. It’s the top unit of a four-unit converted row home a block away from Passyunk Square. It’s a really nice area. And even though my rent’s expensive, I love it to death, and it’s not far from the Tasker Morris subway stop, which means I can get to work, no problem. The cab pulls off, and I’m about to open my umbrella when Rian grabs it and pulls it from my hand, yanking me toward him in the process.
“What the hell?” I say over the downpour. I’m getting soaked, and this asshole is holding on to me tightly, not letting me get away, even though I struggle against his iron grip.
He stares into my face. “We can make this work,” he says again, holding my wrist tightly. “No bullshit, princess. You do what I say and you stay alive.”
“Let me go.”
“I’m not kidding here. Things are going to happen. And if you keep acting like you’re not who you are, you’re going to get hurt.”
“Let. Me. Go.” I stare into his face, rage pulsing through my chest. I want to punch him so hard in the throat that he chokes and falls to the ground and never gets up again.
He stares right back. His eyes are deep and soulful. His lashes are long and dark. I think I can smell him, musky and spicy, mingled with fresh rain. He’s big and intoxicating, and if he were anyone else, I’d think he’s the most attractive man I’ve ever seen in my life.
Except he’s Rian, and my feelings for him are as uncomplicated as they get.