Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28111 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 141(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 94(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28111 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 141(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 94(@300wpm)
“Tell that to the permits department and get the fuck out of here.”
Victory shines in his eyes, and he pulls papers out from the inside pocket of his jacket. “Like I was showing your equally bitchy friend before she set up that line, seems like you’ve got your facts wrong.”
The papers he hands me are demolition permits. Signed and dated by the city on Friday. For this address. Oh, fuck.
The man in front of me starts to laugh. “I think I know who you are,” he says. “You’re Keenan’s activist slut. I don’t know what kind of magic pussy you think you have, but this was always the plan. This project is way too profitable, and as you can see, the permits are legal. So stop pretending you’re willing to die for a few trees and go try to fuck your way into someone else’s profits, okay?”
Turning, he grabs a bullhorn from a nearby man in a hardhat. “Listen up,” he says, voice echoing over the park. “We are going to move these bulldozers in ten seconds. We have legal permits. Now move.”
To my horror, my friends do. They start to move away from the machines that are revving their engines. He starts to count down over the bullhorn, and I have a split-second to make a decision. I drop the papers to the ground and run, plastering myself against a tree directly in front of the largest machine. They’re not going to kill me. They wouldn’t dare. Threats are all well and good, but no one wants to go to jail for murder.
“Move,” he says over the bullhorn.
My voice will never be heard over the sound of the engines, so I just shake my head.
“Go ahead,” he says, and terror grips me, but I don’t move. I hold my ground. They’re not going to kill me. I don’t think.
“Face it, hippy chick, your boyfriend approved this. You really want to get pissed at someone, it should be him.”
Adrenaline is singing in my veins as the machines move towards me, the giant scoop lifting, and the tines stopping inches from my neck. I can’t breathe. Keenan wouldn’t have done this. He wouldn’t have. I’m trying not to believe it, but the proof is right in front of me. The only thing that’s keeping me from the dread is the humming of the engines and the sharp tines pointed at my throat.
“Are you going to move?”
I shake my head again. There are witnesses here. They’re not going to impale me. But looking up at the man who’s driving that bulldozer, I don’t feel as sure as I would like to.
Across the field, I see a shining streak, and a car skids up onto the sidewalk next to mind. Keenan is running across the field at full speed; he’s nearly a blur. The glimpse that I get of his face clears any doubt from my mind that he had anything to do with this.
His expression is pure rage. An avenging angel tearing toward the blond man. The asshole barely has time to see it coming before Keenan’s fist connects with his jaw and he goes down.
The bullhorn falls to the side, and I can’t hear anything they’re saying over the roar, but I can see that Keenan is yelling at him. The blond takes a swing at him, but he ducks easily and puts him down again. In a second Keenan has the bullhorn to his lips. “Back the fuck up. Now.”
It takes a second for them to engage, but slowly, the tines pull away from me, and I realize how badly I’m shaking and how pure adrenaline was keeping me standing.
Keenan reaches me a second before my knees give out, and he’s holding me up now, crushing me to his chest. “Fuck, Justine.”
I hold on to him, loving his strength and so grateful that he’s here, and that I was right. That he had nothing to do with this. Any of it.
“I got your message,” he says, suddenly audible as the engines retreat. “I came as fast as I could.” Nervous laughter. “Am I going to have to keep saving your life?”
“Hopefully not,” I say, digging my fingers into the fabric of his shirt. “But if I’m in danger, you’re the one that I want to save me.”
Keenan leans me back against the tree and kisses me hard. His fear and relief leak through, and there’s something stirring in my gut that tells me this is deeper than anything I can imagine.
“What happened?” I asked. “Who is he?”
His face turns to stone. “That’s Brandon Blake.”
“As in Silverman & Blake.”
“Yes. I told him I was cancelling the permits before we left on our trip. He was pissed, and I didn’t care. He called the city and had them reinstated after I left the office. But I just fired him.”