Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 150546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 753(@200wpm)___ 602(@250wpm)___ 502(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 150546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 753(@200wpm)___ 602(@250wpm)___ 502(@300wpm)
“What are you drinking?” I singsong, dancing up to her and sniffing her mug.
She whacks my arm playfully with an eye roll. “Listen, I’m off the clock!” She waltzes past me.
I turn just as she hits the middle of the stairs. “Lies! You’re never off the clock!”
She flicks her wrists over her shoulder. “Probably. Since I’m having to sleep in the main house instead of in the comfort of my granny flat!”
I bite back my laugh because that granny flat is still on our property, just tucked deep away in the nestle of trees. Dad said he didn’t want us to scare her when we got to our teen years. We’ve just arrived and I’ve gotta say—my tits are not growing as fast as I would have liked.
Sighing, I stop near the window that looks out to the pool and parterre. The cover is pulled over, waiting for summer, and the trees are blanketed with pillows of snow.
A shadow moves past the patio and I fly to the glass door that opens onto it. As soon as I swing the doors open, a glacial gust of wind curls around my body.
Rubbing my hands up and down my arms, I try to narrow in on one of Mom’s fancy shrubs that lines the end.
“Halen.” His voice is somber through chattering teeth.
“Who is it?” I slide my socks off my feet and reach for one of the knit couch throws.
Slipping into Priest’s Jordans that are a few sizes too big, I shuffle the blanket over my shoulder and step outside. You have to bypass security to even get into the estate. Whoever this person is, was legit enough to not raise alarms.
The shadow steps out from behind the shrub and I blink. He is tall with narrow shoulders. Or maybe this is the normal size of the average boy and I’d just been surrounded by monsters all my life.
“Can I help you?” I ask with a raised brow. “Are you cold?” He’s in nothing but a plain black shirt, black pants, and black shoes.
“You can.” The snow crunches beneath his boot when he takes another step. “I need a favor from you. You think you can do that?”
I cross my arms in front of myself. “I don’t know you.”
“I’m a friend of your father’s.”
I pause. He probably is, even though Dad’s friends don’t come to our house. They go to his office in New York because they’re not even allowed in Riverside. “I’ve met my dad’s friends.”
He steps into the line of light coming from the lounge. He’s around the same age as Pop. We were working on human interactions and cues this week. We are required to know these skills for this reason.
Blasted. I’m on my own.
“Hmmm. What is the favor?” My eyes narrow. His shoulders are slumped over, his eyes droopy and weak. His beard is unkempt, his brows as thick as hell. He really needs to pluck those.
He reaches into his pocket slowly and I straighten with unease.
My eyes flick to the outdoor table, where a Glock is strapped.
“No!” He raises his other hand up. “I’m just going to give you something.” He pulls out a small envelope, keeping his eyes on mine as he lowers it on top of the puffy snow, a distance between us.
He straightens and steps back, slightly behind the shrub. “Watch that. You will not say a word to anyone. If you skip to the end, it’ll show you why.” I open my mouth to argue but he shakes his head. His eyes are no longer droopy, they’re hard on mine. “When the time is right, it will happen.”
I stand straighter. “What the hell do you want from me?”
He leaves before I can say another word and I dash for the envelope, running back inside and closing the door. I drop the blanket on the couch and make my way to Dad’s office.
I type in his password—riddlemethis—and shove the SD card into the laptop. I click on the mouse and a video pops up on the screen. A bright yellow light comes into view, and the camera shifts downward…
War
“Who? What?” The rage is back, only more aggressive and not aimed at her.
She ignores me, before answering, “Go to Bayonet Falls.”
I blink at her when she leans back in her chair. Motherfucking Bayonet Falls?
Priest cracks his neck, leaning into the glove compartment and taking out two Desert Eagles and a large sheath. “Any reason why you would all want to be fucking around in that ghost town?”
Vaden checks the chambers. “And why you thought it would be a good idea to not tell us?” He clicks it back into place.
I steady my anger. “GPS. Every single motherfucking one of you.”
Priest places the sheath on his lap, before his eyes meet mine in the mirror. “What’d the video show, Halen?”