Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96206 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96206 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Laila laid her head on his chest and exhaled, melting against him. “I can hear your heart beat.”
He dropped his lips to her ear, whispering to her alone. “It beats for you. When I come back, you’ll marry me?”
She eased back, a tear perched on her lashes. “I want that more than anything.”
Trees believed her…but there was something she wasn’t saying.
“Let’s go, kids,” Ghost growled.
The longer they were here and unmoving, the more they were sitting ducks.
“I love you,” he murmured.
“Te amo.”
Since he didn’t dare delay any longer, he helped her into Matt’s back seat, where she would be less visible, gave her hand one last squeeze, and shut the door.”
Matt drove away slowly with a jaunty salute in his direction, his truck rumbling toward the end of the lane and pausing at Ghost’s. Jack Cole’s buddy hopped out of the bed and dived into his Tundra, starting the engine and idling.
Waiting for him.
Trees cursed, then grabbed his own duffel from the house, set the alarm, locked up behind him, gave Barney one last head scratch and a few more treats, then climbed into his Hummer. It wasn’t long before he pulled around Matt, settling in for the long miles until they were no longer on a dirt road. Ghost followed them.
Though Trees gripped the wheel tightly, the drive to the edge of town and the hard road was uneventful. He stayed watchful, looking everywhere for Ramos or his violent drug mules to jump out and try to take Laila from him. With every mile that passed, he relaxed.
During the drive, he peered at Laila in his rearview mirror. The sadness on her face was a stab in the heart, and he swore that somehow he’d make this shit up to her and keep her safe for the rest of her life.
Finally, they reached the main drag bisecting the nearest little town. There wasn’t much—a dollar store, some churches, a mom-and-pop grocery store, along with a couple of gas stations, a body shop, and a one-window post office.
At the town’s last intersection, the light turned yellow just as Trees made it through. Matt followed. It was red by the time Ghost reached the limit line, and he watched the guy shudder to a halt. In his rearview mirror, Ghost’s dark blue Tundra got smaller and smaller.
A few feet off Trees’s bumper, Matt kept going, probably figuring the other operator would catch up in two minutes or less. Trees scowled. He’d feel better, especially for Laila’s sake, if they waited for the tail, but it was stupid to sit around and wait like no one was after them.
As they reached the intersection at the interstate, Trees slipped into the left turn lane to head east on I-10. Traffic was almost nonexistent, so he paused, watching Matt zoom past him and continue heading south. Where was he taking Laila? What had Hunter and the other bosses cooked up? Trees hated not knowing as he watched the beat-up Chevy drive away.
Vowing to put an end to this shit separating them soon, he caught a green light and made a left toward the freeway’s on-ramp.
From a dirt corner, a black van lurched forward, tires spinning, kicking up dust. It barreled toward Trees, heading straight for his passenger door. Holy fuck, the driver intended to T-bone him.
Trees stepped on the gas, trying to outrun them and jet onto the freeway. A glance behind proved Ghost still hadn’t caught up.
The Hummer didn’t move fast enough, and the van clipped his vehicle, sending Trees spinning around on the otherwise deserted road, closer and closer to an embankment wall.
His head reeled as he tried to steer out of the over-rotation. But it was too late. The top-heavy vehicle flipped onto its top, then rolled over twice more before slamming against a guardrail and coming to a shuddering stop.
Pain roared in his head. A trickle of warm blood slid from a gash above his brow. His limbs felt like they weighed a ton as he tried to swipe away the blood and clear his suddenly blurry vision, but darkness ringed the edges—and started closing in.
No. No! He needed air. But he couldn’t find the fucking handle. When he did, he couldn’t muster the strength to open the door. It was stuck. Crumpled from the accident? He groped around the armrest until he found the button to roll down the window, but even the chilly winter night didn’t jolt back his dimming senses.
Shit. He was going to pass out. He must have hit his head harder than he’d thought…
Help. He needed help. Nine one one.
With the last of his strength, he felt in his pockets for his phone but couldn’t seem to yank it free.
Suddenly, movement through the passenger window caught his attention. The occupants of the van poured out, illuminated by their headlights—three men shrouded in head-to-toe black. All carried guns pointed straight at him. They spoke rapid-fire Spanish as they wrenched his door open, yanked him from the cab, and dragged him toward the open door of their van as his consciousness gave way.