Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 115964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
I frowned, staring at the sunglasses. He’d added those for me, and I looked up as he pulled his own out and slipped them on his face.
“What do you think, sis?”
I rocked backward, the memory picking back up.
I couldn’t shove it down, and I was helpless to stop as it played out in my mind.
I looked up, seeing my sister in jeans that were skintight and a top that wasn’t a top. It was a bikini. She grinned at me, wiggling her hips as she did a slow circle. The tattoo was new on her side, so it was still bandaged.
I hated seeing that tattoo. It was his claim on her, like she was his property.
But before I could tell my sister she looked beautiful, because she always did—she was popular for a reason at school—he spoke up. “Those pants make you look fat. Pick something else.”
My sister’s smile fell flat and she swallowed. “Right.” She hung her head and went back into the dressing room. The door shut quietly, a slow click, and I hated that almost as much as I hated him. My sister never shut a door slowly, carefully. She rushed through life with a zest that was annoying at times. She was a force.
The way that door shut? There was no force there.
He was taking that from her.
I didn’t let myself look at him. If I did, I was going to smack him in the head with my book, and I wouldn’t stop.
A tear slid down my face as the parking lot swam into focus.
I should’ve looked at my sister’s boyfriend. I should’ve smacked him with the book, and I should’ve kept going until he was dead.
I hadn’t wanted to go to jail.
What a silly notion now.
13
Carrie
Raize parked, and when we got out, I was surprised to see him putting his gun in his seat’s zipper pocket. He held his hand out. “Give me your gun.”
“What?”
A few people walked past us on the sidewalk. They looked exhausted—maybe commuting for work. None of them were looking at us. In fact, I got the feeling this was a neighborhood where people minded their own business.
“I didn’t bring it.”
I ignored the flash in Raize’s eyes and started for the end of the truck.
“Stop.” He hooked his arm through my elbow, moving me closer as he reached inside and took his gun back out. He snagged the sweatshirt he’d just bought me and handed it over, unlinking our arms. “Put this on.”
I frowned. “It’s hot out.”
“Put it on.” He was back to being monotone.
I did, and then sucked in my breath when he reached for me, his hand snaking up through my shirt. “Hey!”
He ignored me, and I felt him putting his gun on the inside of my bra where there was some extra cushion in the sweatshirt. That’s why he’d bought this particular sweatshirt.
I tried to stop myself from glaring at him, but it was hard.
Everything he did was for a reason, an angle. He hadn’t bought me clothes to be kind. He’d bought them as an extra place to hide his weapons.
Raize stepped back, looking me over before giving a nod of approval. “They’ll run their hands down your back, but the hoodie should bunch up. They won’t do a thorough job with me there.”
I eyed him as he looked toward a building. “Why won’t they do a thorough job with you there?”
He lingered on the building for a moment. One story. Flat roof. The outside was of faded red brick. There were two narrow windows on both sides of the door. Both windows were blacked out. The door didn’t look any better than the brick. It was painted in velvet red, but the paint job was old and chipped.
He looked back to me.
Heat flashed in his gaze, and I almost stepped back. Tingling shot through me—what the hell was that? He smirked. I’d never seen Raize smirk before, but there it was. That’s how he looked hot to so many women. I saw it in that second, until I looked up and his eyes were still dead. That snuffed it out.
“They know me here. They’ll be nervous about insulting me.”
Well then. That explained nothing.
Everyone should be nervous about insulting Raize, as far as I was concerned.
He took off, and I stuffed my hands into the sweatshirt’s pockets. Oh. He might not want that bulge to be outlined, so I took them out. I followed at a more sedate pace, which he noted with a slight frown. Once he was ten feet from the door, it opened and two giant guys stepped out.
They nodded to Raize, who jerked his chin up. “I’d like to see Oscar.”
They both stared, not responding until one touched his ear. He had an earpiece there. He listened for a moment. “We gotta search you and your woman.”