Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 110273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
Her shoulders slackened a second.
She was losing her steam at a faster rate than I thought. Her arms went up to the keyboard, but they looked like they were suddenly under a crushing weight.
Shit.
I brushed more of her hair back. Her eyes closed. She savored that touch, so I leaned down again. My lips found hers and I whispered there, “You did amazing.”
She nodded, her lips finding mine, and as I stepped back, she had a little more gusto than just a split second earlier.
She was working again. It wasn’t with the speed and force she had before, but it was steady. She’d be done before we would.
That meant I’d change our plans.
I waited, and as soon as she was done, I helped put her stuff in her backpack. When she stepped out of the office, I told her to head to Fitz. She did, and then I waved Josh over. The guys had been spot-dusting any places their fingerprints might’ve been left.
Josh watched her go with Fitz, then turned to me.
“Take photos of everything in the office. Copy anything left in the copy and fax machine. See if there’s a history there we can get. Then close up. Bailey said she got the codes. Matt doesn’t need to grab the girl’s phone. Bailey did it all remotely.”
“Got it, boss.”
I left, and Fitz had Bailey in my car. I stepped around him, taking the driver’s seat. He nodded, going to his car. He’d follow us back to the Chesapeake. Once on the way, with Bailey’s backpack sitting in front of her and with Bailey curled in a ball on the passenger seat, already asleep, I called Matt. I relayed to him everything that happened.
Forty minutes later, Matt texted.
Camille Story was in a cab, heading back to her apartment.
Hoda and her other friend had left earlier.
Josh called.
“I got everything. Place is locked up.”
“Take the night off.”
Bailey would be asleep most of the night, but I needed her. I needed to hold her. I needed to be there in case she woke, because when she did, I knew she’d be hurting. It was always that way after a high that she was on. There’d be the low and then her haunts would slip in.
I’d be there.
She was back, and I intended to keep her back.
TWELVE
Bailey
I was falling.
I felt it.
It was a pull, tugging me down. I knew it. I knew the consequences.
I was back there.
The shots.
Matt tackled me.
They were bursting through the doors.
More shooting.
Trembling.
Weeping.
Shrieking.
The smell of burning and urine in the room.
Sweat.
Dust.
Then I was up. They were gone.
I was running.
“Bailey!”
“Mom!” A panicked breath in. “Mom!”
Chrissy.
I had to get to her.
Chrissy.
My legs were weak, shaking.
Chrissy!
I slammed into the wall, and then I saw them.
Outside.
He was dragging her.
He was looking.
He pushed her to her knees.
The gun was out.
He looked up, right at me.
And he smiled—my chest squeezed.
I’d forgotten.
I’d forgotten!
Bam!
I jerked upright. Someone was screaming.
It was bloodcurdling.
“Hey.” A soothing hand. Down my hair. “Hey. Hey, Bailey. Baby.”
Whispered and frenzied kisses.
I was rolled over.
There was still screaming. More shaking.
Then sobbing. Hiccups.
It was me.
I was the one screaming.
“Bailey!” I was pushed down, and a body came over me.
I froze, the same panic as before. My fists were up. I was fighting. Shoving.
I had to get free.
I had to get my—
“Bailey!”
A mouth came down over me.
It was Kash.
That was him.
It was his mouth kissing me.
That got through.
Everything quieted, except there was a pounding. A thumping sound.
I gasped as Kash lifted his mouth. He ran a hand down my face, a face that was sweating.
Sweat mixed with tears.
He didn’t care, and I could see him now. The moonlight was outside, filtering in, and I was still crying.
Oh, God. It hurt. Everything hurt.
“My mom,” I choked out. My hands were curled around his arms. “My mom, Kash.”
“I know.” Another whisper, of such understanding and pity and sympathy. It unraveled me.
I couldn’t hold it back anymore.
I bent my head to his chest and gave in.
His arms tightened around me. I felt his kiss on my shoulder, and he was moving us. I was cradled in his chest. He pushed up, sitting against the headboard. I was on his lap, curled into a ball.
More tears.
More pain.
Slicing me.
He held me. He ran a hand down my hair, my back, sweeping up my arm and repeating.
He did it all night long.
I cried all night long.
She was there, all night long.
And right before I fell asleep—later, much later—I swear I heard my mom whisper in the air, “My baby girl.”
THIRTEEN
Kash
Six A.M., and Bailey was finally sleeping.
It wasn’t a restless sleep, but one where she was out out. No sounds were coming from her. She hadn’t moved an inch for the last hour. The only way I knew she wasn’t dead was because I felt her breath as I held her, but six meant I needed to get going.