Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 17073 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 85(@200wpm)___ 68(@250wpm)___ 57(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 17073 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 85(@200wpm)___ 68(@250wpm)___ 57(@300wpm)
I remove the phone from my ear and flick the loudspeaker so she can listen while dressing. It’s for work, but if this conversation is headed where I think it is, I refuse to let her out of my sight.
“So, he ignored me then.” I feel the venomous sting of fury bubbling inside my chest. I made myself clear to Harry. The next time we have the misfortune of crossing paths, I’d be the last thing he ever sees.
“Guess so, but there’s no time to think about that now. We need to get you back to the Lion’s Den.”
Silver pulls a dark t-shirt over her head before her eyes turn to me. Nervousness bubbles inside the deep blue pools.
“I’ll head back now,” I answer, extending a hand toward Silver. She rushes closer, taking my hand in a firm squeeze. “But it’s not my safety I’m concerned about, Dante. I met a woman. She’s…” Amazing. Beautiful. Perfect beyond the meaning of the word. Everything I could have wished for and more. “Her safety is my main priority. We’ll return to the Lion’s Den and figure out how to deal with Harry together, but I want you to ensure that nothing happens to Silver.”
“Understood,” he says, not even trying to second-guess my decision.
But how could he, having felt the pure exhilaration of meeting the love of his life only a few short months ago?
“Are you willing to join me?” I ask Silver, who hasn’t left my side since I let her listen in to the call.
“Wherever you go, I go.” She wraps herself under my arm.
“Pack a bag and bring whatever you need because we’re walking into a war zone, and I need you to be ready.”
“I’ll need to make a stop before we head back to the city,” Silver says, gathering her things for an extended stay in the Lion’s Den.
“Back at the shop?” I ask, escorting her from the bedroom and out of her apartment.
“No. My parents’ place.”
Confused but in no position to argue about needing to get out of here, I accept. Whatever she’s collecting must be important, but the sly smirk on her face tells me Silver’s cooking up a plan of her own.
Here’s hoping whatever it is won’t have to come to fruition.
9
SILVER
Dense trees, still covered in last night’s snow, tower around me as I drive down the long, narrow road leading back to the Lion’s Den.
Against my wishes to drive together, Salvatore insisted we take separate cars on the off-chance something happened to him on the road. After a lengthy back and forth outside my parents’ place, I relented and accepted his wishes.
He knows what we’re walking into, after all, and this is new to me.
“There’s a roadblock up ahead,” Salvatore’s voice comes through my car’s Bluetooth system.
We started a call the second we got into separate vehicles. The rational part of me understands that it’s so we can keep in contact and make sure we’re moving along smoothly.
“Police?” I ask, gulping nervously.
“Black cars. No lights.” His brake lights shine as the cars come into my view. A heavily armed man waves his arm toward Salvatore’s car, motioning that he get out of the road. “I want you to keep on driving. Go to the Lion’s Den and find Dante Vitorri. He’ll know what to do.”
“Sal, I’m not—” He kills the call as I drive by, and I watch two of the armed men approach his window with raised guns.
I continue staring at them through my rearview mirror as I continue down the road. Terror nips at my heels, and every inch of me wants to turn away as my greatest fears start to become a reality.
What if they shoot him where he’s sitting? How could I live with myself if I watched it through the tiny mirror hanging above my head?
I need to do something. I can’t just leave him here alone.
And I’ve got the perfect solution to our problem. I keep the men in their black cars in focus until they become nothing more than tiny ants moving Salvatore from his car to their trucks. When they’re barely visible, I pull my Jeep off the road and hide it inside the tree line.
Shoving my hand into the backseat, I grab the leather-bound rifle I collected from my parent’s place.
“Alright, Bucky,” I whisper to the gun, feeling almost crazy doing so. “Let’s see why Dad loves you so much.”
Jumping out of the driver’s seat, I take my position among the trees. I train Bucky’s scope down the length of the road until I find my targets. The last few heavily armored men get into the back of the car, and it starts to move toward me.
God, the things I do for love.
Wait a second. Is that what this is? Having it play in the back of my mind is one thing, but actually using the L-word makes my cheeks burn so hot, even the frigid cold can’t permeate them.