Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 120475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 602(@200wpm)___ 482(@250wpm)___ 402(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 602(@200wpm)___ 482(@250wpm)___ 402(@300wpm)
I drop the towel and reach out, daring to rest my fingers on his knee, a soft plea against all his hard edges.
“Please, Domhn,” I whisper. “I know I fucked up last year. I know I’ve disappointed you in every way a sister can. I brought the vilest piece of shit back into your and Mads’s lives, and even before that, I was too much—all the time—when all you deserved was a normal sister—”
“Stop it, Moira.” He snaps the words like a whip. “I never needed normal. You’re my sister. I always knew you were capable of standing on your own two feet. I just needed you to see it, too.”
I blink at him, stunned silent. He’s always acted like I was a hurricane he just had to endure. To hear him say he actually believed in me? It steals the breath from my lungs.
“I’m going to fix this.” My voice is steadier this time. More sure.
“Well, you should have a chance to any second because I told Bane you were here when I saw you step out of the Uber.”
“What?!” I lurch to my feet so fast the chair legs screech against the floor. “Why didn’t you tell me that when I got here?!”
“I didn’t know what you’d have to say for yourself,” he says, completely unbothered by the fact that my entire plan is unraveling before my eyes. “And he’s been off his rocker since you left. If you were running from him for a good reason, I figured it was best for me to be here when you reunited.”
I drag a hand down my face. “If I’m going to break up with him, I can’t do it here. I need it to be somewhere they’ll see. They’ve probably got us under surveillance back at the church house. I’ve got to do it there. Let me borrow a car and some money.”
He rises to his full height, all bristling big-brother energy. “Only if you tell me where Mads is.”
“Fine,” I huff. “But they’ve probably moved her since I escaped.”
“Don’t care. Tell me.”
“Keys first.”
His eyes narrow. “They’re in the garage.”
“Fine, then money now, keys later.” I rub my thumb and forefingers together in the universal sign for “pay up.” He rolls his eyes but pulls out his wallet. Instead of handing me cash, he slaps a credit card into my palm. Even better. I shove it in my pocket.
“Give me your phone.”
“Tell me where she is, for shite’s sake!”
“Phone!”
He curses but hands it over, dragging a hand through his hair like he’s regretting all his life choices that led to keeping me in his life as a sister. See? No matter his sweet words, it’s better for everyone when I’m not around. I’ll break up with Bane and cut town. Everyone will get a break from the chaos-bringer that is me.
First, I text Bane, telling him that Moira’s left and she’s going home. Then I text Isaak an SOS, telling him I need him and whatever security goons he’s got to meet Domhn at the following cross streets in the warehouse district ASAP.
Only then do I hand the phone back to Domhn and tell him where Mads is.
We both take off for his extensive garage, feet pounding the floor in a synchronized rhythm of urgency and barely restrained panic.
“Even if they’ve moved Mads,” I say as we run, “there could still be bad guys there. I texted Isaak for backup.”
He grunts, then says, “Buy a burner as soon as you’re done breaking the priest’s heart. Keep me up to date.”
As soon as we hit the garage, he points to a box on the left wall. “Keys.” He’s already got the garage door opening and is peeling out in one of his sports cars before I’ve even reached the box.
I look at the three cars left. My hand hesitates for all of two seconds before reaching for the keys to the shiniest, fastest-looking one.
Naturally, it is the sexy red one.
FORTY-EIGHT
BANE
I get the sporadic text from Domhn when I’m halfway to his house—Moira’s left and is heading home.
Home.
I text back immediately.
Bane: Our home or her apartment?
No response.
My jaw tightens. Is this another game? Another way to keep me chasing her, always a step behind? I don’t fucking like being a step behind. I don’t like being out of control.
And Moira knows it.
A roar rips out of me, raw and animalistic, as I slam my foot down on the gas. I fucking hate this. Hate not knowing where she is, what the fuck she’s thinking, and what she’s running from.
I am never out of control.
And right now, I don’t even know what the fuck is happening, much less how to be in control of it. I should have her at my side already, not running around like she’s a ghost slipping through my fingers.