Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 84929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
As I walked up to the front door, I wiped my sweaty palms on the legs of my jeans. I didn’t really know anything about the guy. Was he married? I hadn’t noticed a ring. Would he be a difficult opponent in a fight? He’d looked like an athlete. Maybe this was it. Maybe I was willingly putting myself alone in a house with a guy who strangled people. I didn’t know if he had a Variation, or if I’d have any chance at defending myself against it. My leg muscles twitched with the impulse to bolt. But I didn’t have a choice. Lives depended on me. I needed to suck it up and prove my worth.
Squaring my shoulders, I pressed the button beside the door.
A second later, the door creaked open and Yates stood in front of me. He must have been watching my arrival from a window or waiting in the entrance hall. He ushered me inside, with a quick glance outside, probably making sure that none of his neighbors had seen me. I brushed my palm across the Taser in my bag.
The hall smelled of chocolate.
“I made chocolate chip cookies,” he explained as he led me into a big, stainless steel kitchen. A baking sheet with fresh, golden brown discs sat atop the spotlessly clean counter. Why the hell had he baked cookies?
“They’re your favorite.” He smiled tentatively. Had Madison liked that he took care of her? Sweat glistened on his skin. Was it from nerves or because of the heat streaming out of the oven? He picked up the tray with a dish towel and held it out to me. His hands shook. “They’re still warm. Do you want one?”
They smelled delicious and looked even better. Would a taste really hurt?
“No, thank you, I’m not hungry. I just ate a sandwich,” I said. It was the truth, but that wasn’t why I said it. Hiding drugs in baked goods wasn’t an easy feat due to the heat, and the cookies definitely were still hot, but I preferred to err on the side of caution.
His smile disappeared and he returned the baking sheet to the counter.
Perspiration made my back slick. It was too hot in the kitchen. He rested his eyes on me, not once breaking his stare. “Could we go somewhere else?” I asked, taking a step toward the hall.
He seemed conflicted. Was it such a difficult request? His eyes flitted around the kitchen, over the still steaming cookies, the empty coffee cup on the round glass table, and the enormous knife-block resting on the counter. I had to stop myself from touching the A over my rib cage. Had Yates used one of those knives to cut his victims?
A droplet of sweat trickled down my spine. Alec was outside. He’d come if I screamed. I felt the Taser again through the fabric of my purse.
I took another step back. Yates shook off whatever stupor he’d been in and walked past me, his shoulder brushing my arm and sending a shiver through me.
I followed him into the living room, where it was thankfully ten degrees cooler. He looked around before gesturing for me to sit on the sofa. It was soft and I sank down into it. It would be difficult to make a quick escape.
Yates filled two glasses with water and set them down on round coasters before he sat down beside me, his leg pressing against mine. I inched to the side but the armrest stopped my escape. I could still feel Yates’s warmth seeping through the fabric of my jeans. I rubbed my hands over my legs to chase it away. Yates stared at me, his eyes once again lingering on my scar. It was strange to think that Madison had seen something in him, that she might have welcomed his attention. He was attractive, no doubt, but something about him was too touchy-feely and desperate.
“Did we meet here often?” My voice came out hoarse. I took a sip of water, remembering too late that it might be tainted. Hastily I put the glass down. Yates stared at it for a moment before shifting it slightly so it sat in the middle of the coaster. He wiped a few droplets of water from the wooden table. He was obviously thorough, the kind of person who wouldn’t have any trouble covering his tracks.
Then he shook his head, looking almost embarrassed. “Only twice. We usually met in Manlow or at the lake.” He flinched, his eyes taking up their dance around the room again like a nervous twitch. Madison had been found on the shore of the lake. He must have seen something flicker on my face because he looked like he was going to be sick.
“Did we meet at the lake on the day of my attack?”