Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
I studied him momentarily, the flutter in my chest turning to a panicked beat.
“What’s going on?” I pushed upright, sending the water rushing to one side of the tub. “Did you call your friend? Is that who you were talking to out there?”
Bennett rubbed the back of his neck and then nodded. “He said that if you go back into WITSEC, we won’t be able to talk anymore. They would need to cut you off from everything and relocate you again. I wouldn’t know where.”
Tears rushed to my eyes, and I held my breath to keep them from falling. “Please…Bennett…there has to be another way out of this mess. Please—”
“Tor. Don’t cry.” He swooped down and knelt beside the tub. He took my hands in his and clasped them tightly. “I don’t want to lose you again. We’ve lost too much time as it is.”
I swallowed hard, trying to keep the tears in my eyes from falling. “Then what do we do?”
“I don’t know. I need time to figure something out. Maybe we can get you an apartment in another city. Somewhere in the Midwest. Far from all this bullshit. Maybe Oklahoma City or another big city where you can have a life. I think Ryker and Everlie are still out there. And I could get you a bodyguard—”
“Ryker? Everlie? Do you still talk to them?”
“I haven’t in a while. Ever since this op came up. I haven’t talked to anyone I know from before the case but you.”
“Would I be safe with them?” I asked him, hoping I could at least be with my friends.
“Nope. They’re probably being watched by someone in Richie’s group. That’s why I need to take this fucker out. Not a good idea. I can get you a bodyguard, and you can make new friends. In a safer space.”
“A bodyguard?” A small giggle slipped from my lips at the image of me being followed by some six-foot lumberjack in a black suit as I did my grocery shopping or got my nails done. “Bennett…come on. That’s overkill.”
“I’m trying, Tori, I’m really trying.”
I reached out and grasped his forearm. “I know. But you’re going over the top. I’ll go somewhere else and disappear, but I don’t need a SWAT team crawling up my ass 24/7. All right?”
Bennett looked ready to argue, so I leaned forward over the tub's edge and kissed him. My hand went to the side of his face and traced the rough stubble that covered the angular lines of his jaw.
“I’ll be okay, Bennett. Then you can come and be with me once you’re done here.”
His eyes were wide. He didn’t like the plan, but he wouldn’t argue with me. “I’ll make the arrangements.”
“Thank you.”
He looked like he was ready to add something, some caveat, but his phone buzzed. “Damn it. Hold on.”
Bennett pushed up from the floor and took the call in the other room, closing the bathroom door behind him. I sighed and dragged myself out of the tub, wishing I could stay all day and ignore reality a little bit longer.
Instead, I wrapped myself in a thick, white hotel towel. I stopped at the door and listened. Bennett was still talking to whoever had called. His boss? What if his friend had called WITSEC and reported us? How much had Bennett told him? My heart slammed into overdrive as crazy thoughts ricocheted through my head at double-time speed.
With a deep breath, I pushed into the main room. The clock on the wall showed it was nearing seven in the morning. I was exhausted but wired at the same time. I wanted to go home and try to sleep before I had to get up and go back to work, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep. My mind was racing with thoughts and questions. I wasn’t sure of the timeline, but Bennett wasn’t the kind of guy to wait on things. How long did I have in L.A.? A week? Two? Less?
I studied Bennett while he paced to the window, the phone pressed to his ear.
“Understood. Yes, sir.”
Once I got dressed, I returned to the bathroom and tried to detangle my hair. It was frizzy from the steamy bathroom, so I raked my fingers through the loose knots and then tossed them up into a messy bun on the top of my head. Somewhat satisfied, I leaned forward and studied my reflection. A frown etched on my face. “Dang, Tori Barnes, you’re a fuckin’ hot mess.”
“I think you’re pretty damn sexy.”
I whirled around at Bennett’s voice and found him casually leaning against the doorway, wearing a pair of dark jeans and a sexy smirk.
It wasn’t fair that men could look so hot in the morning without an ounce of effort. But, despite Bennett’s statement, I knew I was a far cry from damn sexy. It would take an hour in my bathroom at home—with my entire arsenal of makeup and hair products at my disposal—to get myself even in the ballpark of half sexy.