Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 123155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
My gaze snapped back to the rocking chair. Something—yeah, someone had been sitting on the cushions of that chair. The rest of the room looked untouched, but that chair had been used. There was a slight depression in the light gray cushion, not where their ass had been, but oddly, where they’d rested their head.
“She’s in here,” I said, inaudible beyond the comm in my ear.
I checked the bathroom first, just to be sure, but I knew it would be empty. Then, as if they knew to wait and let me go in first, I met Josiah and Ephraim at the door to the closet.
Taking a deep breath, I swung open the door and reached for the switch. The closet was full of shit, racks and racks of women’s clothes from one end of the space to the other. A damn near perfect place to hide. I stepped forward, but instinct made me pause and pull the mask up to the top of my head. Holding my weapon at the ready, I turned my gaze toward the side that was thickest with coats.
“Cec?”
I barely breathed as a long fur coat twitched and then was slowly pushed to the side.
Then there she was, blinking against the bright lights of the closet, pointing a .38 directly at my crotch, with a baby nursing at her breast.
“Mark?” she asked, her eyes widening with shock.
I tried to reply, but couldn’t. It felt like my tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth.
“We’ve got two in here,” Eph murmured into the comm as he looked over my shoulder. “Cecilia and a newborn baby.”
“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you,” Forrest growled. He didn’t have to specify who he was speaking to.
“I didn’t know,” I rasped, still staring at Cecilia. “Jesus Christ.”
Chapter 3
Cecilia
It felt like I was staring at a ghost. His face had greasepaint all over the skin not covered by a full beard, and he was about a thousand times broader than when we were kids—but I’d know his blue eyes, the nose that slanted slightly to the left from being broken by a right cross when we were fourteen, and the wide mouth that had gotten him teased—anywhere. I’d know him anywhere.
“Time to move,” the man behind him said. When Mark didn’t even shift his weight, too busy staring right back at me, the man shoved his way into the closet and extended his hand. “I’m Ephraim. Let me help you up.”
I shook my head, trying to make sense of things, and lowered my weapon. “Sorry,” I murmured as I pressed the safety and stashed it back in my purse. “Give me a second.”
Reaching around the baby, who was still nursing drowsily, I grabbed first the bag and then my purse, slinging them over my shoulder.
“I can get those for you,” Ephraim said, reaching for my stuff.
“No, thanks, I got it.” I used my free hand to brace myself as I rolled to my knees, barely holding back a groan. I was stiff and sore from sitting on the floor for so long, but I wasn’t about to complain. As soon as I was on my feet, Mark snapped out of his daze.
“Let me help you,” he said, taking the bags from me without waiting for a response. “Come on.”
Holding the baby snug against my body, I followed Mark out of the closet.
“Wait,” I said, jerking to a stop. “I left a dirty diaper in there on the floor.”
“Don’t think they’re gonna mind,” Mark said.
“Nice save,” Ephraim said at the same time. “Better to leave no trace you were here.”
“You better get it the fuck together,” a new man muttered to Mark, taking a couple steps forward. He looked at me. “I’m Josiah. Glad you’re okay.”
“Got it,” Ephraim said, holding the diaper. “Let’s go.”
The house was eerily quiet as we moved through the hallway and down the stairs. It reminded me of when windstorms would knock out the power back home. Sometimes it would take hours for the electric company to get the lines fixed, and the house would be so quiet while we waited, like a tomb.
“Takin’ her out the back,” Mark murmured too quiet for anyone but me to hear.
“Who are you talking to?” I asked quietly.
Turning to me, he lifted a finger to his lips. I nodded.
As we made our way through the kitchen, Mark stuffed his hand inside my bag and rummaged around for a minute. When he didn’t find what he was looking for, he stopped. Setting the bag and purse down on the floor, he unzipped his hoodie and quickly pulled it off.
“It’s cool out,” he said, his mouth so close to my ear I could feel his breath. “Put this on.”
I didn’t stop to question him. Letting him hold the sweatshirt for me, I carefully shifted the baby from one arm to the other so I could get the sleeves on. When I was done, he gently zipped us both inside.