Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 90919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
“Don’t be an ass,” she ordered.
“What’s wrong with caring about you?” I wheezed, catching the helmet the next time she swung it in my direction.
Something wasn’t right, but I couldn’t tell what it was. The parking garage was pretty well lit. I couldn’t hear anything moving. I couldn’t see anything moving. But there was something that had caught my eye, and I wasn’t sure what it was. A shadow somewhere there shouldn’t be. An angle wrong somewhere.
“Helmet on,” I ordered, reaching for my back waistband before realizing that I still wasn’t carrying. Fuck.
“Cian?”
“Helmet on, Myla,” I ordered, still scanning the space as we reached my bike.
Myla jerked the helmet on and buckled it while I maneuvered her between me and the cement wall.
Still nothing.
I climbed on my bike and nodded to Myla. She swung on like she’d done a hundred times before. Half of me didn’t want to turn the bike on because I wouldn’t be able to hear anything else, but the other half wanted to get Myla out of that garage as soon as fucking possible.
She wasn’t an idiot, and she knew me. The second the engine roared to life, Myla was pressed tightly against my back, her arms locked around my waist. We rocketed out of the parking spot and down the ramp. As we reached the lower level, the sound of Will’s bike greeted us, and I didn’t even slow down as we passed him. Less than a minute later, he was on the road behind us as I took the most convoluted route I could think of to get to Aoife’s.
“What the hell was that?” Myla asked when I’d finally parked in the driveway beside Brody’s bike.
Will parked and met my eyes.
“Not sure,” I told him. “Somethin’.”
“Always go with your gut,” he said with a firm nod. “We weren’t followed.”
“You think someone was watching us?” Myla asked, glancing around my sister’s neighborhood.
I almost laughed. When there’d actually been something off, she’d been absolutely oblivious, but when we were surrounded by my sister’s boring neighbors, she was suddenly on high alert.
“Don’t worry about it,” I told her just as Saoirse came out onto the porch.
“She’s finally quiet,” my sister called out quietly. “But she’s pacing a hole in the floor.”
“Shit,” I mumbled.
Myla and Will followed me into the house.
“He was here,” Aisling informed me, pointing at the linoleum between her bare feet. “I saw him. Four times.”
“Different cars all night,” Brody said quietly from his seat at the kitchen table.
“He was in different cars,” Aisling snapped, glaring at Brody. “I told you that.”
“Who was here?” I asked, moving closer.
My baby sister looked so brittle that I was half afraid she would shatter and fall to pieces. Her hands were clenching and relaxing over and over, and her shoulders curled forward like she was preparing for a blow. She’d showered at some point, and her hair was tied up in a massive knot on the top of her head. For a second, I was stunned. I couldn’t figure out if she was really as skinny as she appeared or if the baggy pajamas she’d borrowed from Aoife and the dark circles around her eyes were making her look that way.
“Fuck,” Will murmured from behind me.
“I warned you,” I muttered under my breath.
I’d seen Aisling before she was cleaned up. Her appearance wasn’t shocking to me anymore—infuriating, yes, but not shocking. I hadn’t thought about how she’d look to Will and Myla.
I glanced over to see Myla staring at Aisling, her eyes glossy with tears.
“Aisling,” Myla said, walking forward a few steps. “Who—”
“Don’t look at me like that,” Aisling snapped. “Don’t.”
Myla froze. I opened my mouth to tell Aisling to knock it off, but stopped myself when Myla’s entire expression changed. It reminded me eerily of Tommy. One second, her face was full of emotion, tears in her eyes. The next second, it was a blank slate.
“Who’s driving by your house?” Myla asked with a little nod.
“Julian,” Aisling replied, glancing toward the windows. “It’s Julian.”
“Think about it,” I said gently. “Julian’s not drivin’ anywhere tonight.”
“I saw him,” she argued.
“Your mind’s probably playin’ tricks.” It was definitely playing tricks.
“I saw him,” she insisted. “He did this.”
Curling her hand into a fist, she left her thumb straight and ran it across her neck.
“This guy think he’s a goddamn cartoon?” Will mumbled.
“She didn’t see him,” I replied, keeping my eyes on Aisling.
“Yes, I did.” Aisling threaded her fingers into her hair and fisted it. “Jesus, why doesn’t anyone believe me?”
“You’ve had a tough couple of days,” Myla said, her voice still polite but distant. “You need sleep. You look like you’re about to fall over.”
“I don’t want to sleep.”
“You don’t want to?” Myla asked. “Or you’re afraid to?”
“I’m not afraid,” Aisling replied quickly.
“It’s late, Ash,” I murmured.
“I need to get out of here.”