Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 39513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 198(@200wpm)___ 158(@250wpm)___ 132(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 198(@200wpm)___ 158(@250wpm)___ 132(@300wpm)
"Rivin, stop," I complain, nearly tripping over him. "I just need to grab a few things, and then we'll go, okay?"
He refuses to budge. Jeez. Did Alessandro have a talk with him about me coming here?
I flip the lock on the door, actually hoping that’ll appease him, but it does nothing to calm his agitation. He paces around me, snarling, his nose twitching.
I huff and tug on his leash to get him moving, hurrying toward the tiny office behind the counter. He growls in protest but sticks close to my side.
“We’ll be quick,” I promise him.
He rumbles in response.
We’re nearly to the office when I notice puddles of liquid pooling on the floor. I stop walking and gape around me. There are puddles everywhere.
“What the heck? Is the sink leaking again?”
I glance at the bathroom sink, but it's fine, so I change course and head for the kitchen to check it out. But when I push through the swinging saloon doors with Rivin hot on my heels, the sink is fine.
When I notice the puddles on the floor here, too, a knot forms in my stomach. The scent of paint thinner is overpowering. We used it to clean up after painting, but not nearly enough to make it smell like this. In fact, I didn’t smell it at all when Alessandro and I were back here yesterday.
This isn't right. This isn’t right at all.
Fumbling for my phone, I dial Alessandro's number, praying he picks up as I push back out into the bakery.
My heart leaps into my throat and then stops beating when I spot Don standing at the edge of the counter, blocking me in, his expression cold.
Rivin growls savagely, pulling at the leash when he sees my landlord.
"D-Don, what are you doing here?" I ask, my voice trembling.
Rivin lunges against the leash, snarling and snapping. It takes everything I have to keep him under control.
Don’s gaze flits to the phone in my hands. “Put it down,” he snaps.
I carefully set it on the counter behind me, the call still ringing. Please, Alessandro, I plead silently. Please, hear me.
Don stalks closer, undeterred by Rivin's warning snarls. "I knew I never should've rented this place to you," he says. "You're far too much goddamn trouble."
Indignation flares within me. "It's not my fault someone broke into the place!”
"Cut the shit," Don growls, pulling a lighter from his pocket. My blood runs cold at the sight of it. Oh my god. Did he freaking pour paint thinner all over the place to set the building on fire?
No. Please, no, I pray. But I don’t think God is listening today because those puddles weren’t here last night.
"We both know your boyfriend and the Sheriff are looking into me because of you,” Don says. “A previous tenant called me, demanding to know why the sheriff was asking about our lease. They're fucking up my business plan, Heidi."
I gape at him, Rivin snapping and snarling at my side. Icy fear slides through my veins, but I can't resist the urge to point out the obvious. "If your business plan is ripping people off, you need a new business plan."
“You’re right about that.” A wry smirk twists his lips. "That's why I made one.”
“W-what’s your new plan?”
“My broke tenant, in a fit of desperation, sets her own bakery on fire, hoping to save her own ass." His smirk grows. “And her poor landlord, who has a premium insurance policy on the building, gets a payday.”
No. Oh, God, no.
Bile crawls up my throat as he confirms my worst freaking fear. That is paint thinner on the floor, and he does plan to set this place on fire.
"Don, please don't do this," I plead quietly, my heart pounding. "You could kill someone."
He shrugs, the indifference in his eyes chilling me to the bone. "You mean you? You weren't even supposed to be here, Heidi. I figured your man would have you locked up at home. The place was going to go up with no one here. No one would get hurt. I'd get my money. End of story."
Desperation claws at my throat. "Then let me go. I-I won't tell anyone."
"Right," Don laughs, flicking the lighter.
As soon as the little flame appears, Rivin goes crazy. It’s like he knows the man is a threat, and that little flame means life or death for us. There’s nothing I can do to hold him. He lunges forward, snarling like a wild beast.
I cry out, losing my grip on the leash.
Don tries to evade him, but it’s already too late for that.
Rivin sinks his teeth into Don’s leg, biting savagely.
“Fuck!” Don roars, dropping the lighter as he tries to shake him off.
“No!” I watch in horror as the lighter lands beside a puddle at his feet. The paint thinner ignites with a quiet whoosh, flames erupting.