Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 72892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“No,” I answer succinctly because I have no fucking idea what I’m headed into.
I’m playing with fire, and I know it.
If I see Eloise there, I don’t know what the fuck I’ll do. If she’s not there, I have no interest in taking another woman into a room.
Curiosity has gotten me this far, so I’ll let it play out and see where the cards land.
“Just another block,” he announces in a cheery tone. “You’ve been a great customer.”
Since I assume I’d be a better one if that tip landed in his hand, I tug my wallet out of my pocket and slide out a few bills. I tap him on the shoulder with the money. “You’ve been a great driver.”
He doesn’t reach out and grab it. Instead, his gaze darts to the left. “I don’t know how women do it. Look at that one running in the rain in those heels. Is that a mask on her face?”
I look out the car’s window in the direction he’s now pointing at and the woman quickly weaving her way through the pedestrian traffic on the sidewalk.
I’d recognize her anywhere. It’s Eloise.
“Stop!” I yell, tossing the money onto the front seat. “Stop the damn car!”
“I can’t let you out here.”
My fingers are already wrapped around the door handle. “Stop the car now!”
My foot is on the street as soon as the car lurches to a stop. I slide out and dart my way through the oncoming traffic. A symphony of horns and anger-filled voices fill the air, including the curse-laden tirade directed my way from a guy behind the wheel of a delivery truck. He has to slam on his brakes to avoid hitting me.
I ignore all of it because I need to get to her.
As soon as I’m on the sidewalk, I take off in a sprint, racing around people. Eloise never glances back or slows. I have no fucking idea who or what she’s running from but I know panic when I see it, and that’s what I’m witnessing.
We’re too close to the club for me to scream out her name, so I yell something else to get her to stop. “Hey! Slow down!”
That does nothing.
I’m gaining on her but there are at least twenty feet between us.
“Hey, stop! Sweetheart, stop!” a male voice calls from behind me.
Just as I’m about to turn around and tell him I’ve got it handled, she trips.
The clutch purse in her hand flies into the air, her legs give out and she falls onto the wet pavement.
Two women race toward her to help, but she needs me.
I up my pace until I’m near her, and as soon as I can reach out to touch her, I’m down on one knee.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen.” The same male voice that was behind me is now next to me.
I glance up at a blond-haired man wearing an elaborate devil mask that covers half of his face. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Why the hell were you chasing her?”
“I think I know her,” he explains, his voice wavering. “I saw her in line at a club around the corner from here. I’m pretty sure she’s someone I used to know.”
I slowly turn Eloise over.
Her eyes fly open behind the mask she’s wearing. It’s the same mask she had on the night I first saw her in the club.
The man next to me leans down. I push him back with a hand to his shoulder. “Back off.”
“I’m trying to get a good look at her,” he snaps. “We hooked up once. I wanted another round.”
It takes all of the power I possess not to drive a fist into his jaw.
Eloise’s gaze searches my face. A thin trail of blood disappears under her mask from a cut on her forehead.
“You’re hurt, lamb.”
Her eyes widen. “You…you remember, me?”
“It’s not her,” the guy next to me announces. “You’re not Demetria. I ran all this way for nothing.”
I toss him a sharp look. “Go to hell.”
“I’m dressed for it.” He laughs. “I’m going back to the party.”
“Should I call 911?” A woman standing near us asks. “Does she need an ambulance?”
“No,” I say, glancing in her direction, before I level my gaze on Eloise again. “All she needs is me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Eloise
I’m in shock and I can’t tell if it’s from the fall, or the fact that Dr. Morgan remembers our night together.
His gaze trails over me as he cradles me in his strong arms. I’m still on the sidewalk, but as soon as he announced that he’s all I need, he wrapped his arms around me as if he was going to help me stand.
I winced because a shot of pain ran through my knee when I bent it.
“You skinned your knee,” he whispers. “We’ll have to clean that up.”