Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 51825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
On the surface, it’s him being an amazing husband, coming together with me in all things. But I know Kane. He has a mammoth problem to solve with his father rising from the dead, and he’s not himself. Normally, he’d be sitting in the chair, working through it, while I solve my crime. He’s in avoidance mode, and I’ve never seen this side of him. Ever. Either he truly has no answer and just can’t deal with that fact at all, or, more likely—because this is Kane, after all—he knows how he’s fixing this problem, and he doesn’t want to tell me. It’s that bad of a solution. That dangerous of a solution.
Chapter Forty-Three
I wake with a dry mouth and an aching neck to realize I’m on the floor of Purgatory, next to Kane, with his arm under me. I moan and roll over only to eye the clock on my desk and realize it’s 7:00 a.m. “Kane,” I murmur. “Do you have to go to work?”
“I think it’s Saturday.”
I push to my knees and realize he’s wide awake, one hand under his head. “You think it’s Saturday?”
“It’s Saturday.”
“How long have you been awake?”
“About an hour. I was thinking about your case.”
“What about my case?”
“You can drive between Washington and New York in four hours, but with traffic it’s five. A chopper ride would be the easiest route. Maybe Ghost didn’t seek you out. Maybe you surprised him.” He sits up and if his arm is asleep, which it almost has to be, he ignores it. “Then he fed you all that crap about handling this for you to justify his next payday.”
“I don’t think so. I believed what he said, and I don’t believe anyone. He got really close to me, like he wanted me to see his face.”
“You’ve seen it before.”
“Not this close. Not like this.”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s like he welcomed me to study him, to really get to know every line of his face. I could get with a sketch artist, and we’d have a composite drawing to hunt him. He knows that. It’s like he was showing me he trusts me, like he believes I won’t turn on him. Which I will, and then he’ll turn on me and try to kill me. They all try. That’s my life. Bad people want to kill me, and I kill them.”
“Those bad people you killed are not Ghost.” His mood is as sharp as one of the blades I favor when facing my enemies. “What else happened?”
“We drew on each other.”
“He drew on you?” he presses.
“After I drew on him.”
He narrows his eyes. “He’s intrigued by you, I think.”
“How do you know that?” I ask, cautious about what I give up for fear I’m going to just send Kane over the edge.
“Then you agree?”
I hesitate. He knows. “Lilah.”
“I felt it last night, but he’s worried about getting on your bad side when I don’t think he worries about many people at all.”
“He already got on my bad side.” His jaw sharpens. “I’m done with Ghost. It’s time for him to die.”
Chapter Forty-Four
I’m not sure how Kane intends to take out Ghost, but I spend the best part of our morning routine trying to convince him he can’t do that until I catch my bad guy. “Ghost knows who I’m hunting,” I argue as he loops his tie. “I need him to talk, and he can’t do that if he’s dead.”
“He’s way too drawn to you, Lilah,” he says a little later, leaning on the kitchen island with a coffee cup in hand. “There’s nothing good that comes of that.”
“Yes, there is. I already called Houston. He’s sending a sketch artist over. For all we know, Ghost is working for the government himself.”
“Ghost doesn’t work for the government,” he says. “Killing people is what he does. Killing people, Lilah. That could mean you. Or me, if he’s obsessed with you and thinks I’m in the way.”
I step in front of him and collect his cup right from his hand before sipping the sweet beverage. Kane might live his life dark and on edge, but he likes his coffee and his women sweet. Okay, just his coffee.
“He doesn’t want to piss you off. You’re a potential payday. He won’t come at either of us.”
“I don’t like his interest in you. I don’t know how many times I have to say that.”
“I think he thinks I’m like him.”
“You are not like him, Lilah. You kill people like him. He kills people for money. I have to go to a meeting.” He retrieves his coffee from my hand and slugs back a drink before setting his cup in the sink. “Kit’s with you today and until Ghost is dead.”
“Did I mention the President wants to meet you and talk oil?”
“I’m sure your father would love that. He wants me to be his golden ticket.”