Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
I give a negative shake of my head. “The more people who show up at your place, the more of a target we become.”
“Adam then,” Savage counters.
My lips thin. “How is Adam better than Blake?”
“He’s invisible. A chameleon. He’ll show up dressed like a damn woman if that’s what it takes to get past the enemy.”
“No to Adam,” I say. “Blake’s the one who can get the information. He’s the hacker. Blake’s the one I trust.”
Savage wiggles a brow. “And me, too, right?”
“I’ll meet up with Blake,” I say. “Where and when is the question.”
“You’re hot tonight, a walking target,” Savage says. “I think you two should take that kiss-kiss shit up to the room on the far left and relax a while. If you want extra weaponry, if that’s the shit that gets you warmed up for her, try the shooting range. Look around. You’ll find it.” He motions to the bar off the kitchen. “Time for booze, and I’m ordering pizza. I’ll get extra.”
I’m irritated now. “No pizza. We don’t need an extra person coming up here.”
“The pizza gal is my pal,” he assures me. “If I don’t order pizza on a Friday night, it looks off.”
“If you order extra—”
“It looks like I’m getting laid by a hottie, which sadly is not the case. Relax, man. I got this. Go rest.”
I glance around the apartment again and look at Savage. “Expensive place.”
“Because I’m fucking brilliant. I’m fucking expensive, too. I’m the fucker who fucks people up for money, and thanks to the Walkers, I get paid what I deserve. We’re worth a look at if you decide to go contract. And you don’t have to live here to work for us.”
“I don’t need to work another day in my life,” I say. “I damn sure don’t need to do a job that puts Ashley in harm’s way.”
“Well then, I guess I can assume that your hashtag for relationship goals is all about retirement. Our loss.”
“Hashtag?”
“Gotta stay current, man,” he says. “Keeps you alive.”
He’s an eccentric type, but I don’t completely disagree with him. In fact, I’m impressed that he thinks of everything in terms of staying alive. “We’ll stay.”
His cellphone rings, and he reaches for it. “I didn’t know that was a question at this point.” He glances at his caller ID and says, “Blake.”
I motion for the phone. He hands it to me. “It’s Aaron,” I answer.
“Well, that was a fucking disaster,” Blake snaps. “I’m working an electronic trail to try to find out how the hell that happened. Give me an hour. I’ll call Savage’s phone. And no, it wasn’t one of my fucking men, so don’t go down that piece of shit rabbit hole.” He hangs up. I hand the phone back to Savage. He arches a brow, and I ignore him.
Ashley and I need to talk, which is why I catch her hand, our eyes locking in a fiery collision that confirms we’re in for a verbal brawl. Bring it on. I want this behind us, which is why I give her a tug and lead her toward the stairs. She doesn’t fight me to stay behind with Savage. Why would she? This woman is nothing if not a fireball, ready to kick my ass the way no one else could ever dream of kicking my damn ass. She has always been that one woman, hell, that one person in my life, who matches me with every note; the only person who makes me burn one minute and laugh the next. And yet, she actually believed that bullshit that she spewed in the stairwell. I’m pissed, really fucking pissed, for about ten different reasons, mostly at myself. She’s right on one point. I should have told her sooner, but damn it to hell, this is gutting me.
We can’t just go fight this out. Not yet. Safety comes first. Teaching her to survive comes first.
We cut left at the top of the stairs, and I turn her to the railing, placing her in front of me, pressing her hands to the steel bar. “Scan for every place there is to hide, every way you might escape, which means memorizing the layout. Let me know when you’re done.”
She doesn’t speak, but I can feel her studying the lower level. I, myself, focus on the stone walls first and then the ceiling where industrial pipes run. The stone is secure, but pipes can be weaponized. Ashley rotates to face me. “Kitchen behind me to the left,” she says. “The living area to my right. There’s one door. Oddly, no windows. It’s an open space. Very few places to hide. That’s good and bad. We can see who is where, which means they can’t hide, but we can’t either. Not down there.”
“Wrong,” Savage calls out. “Panel under the stone island has a secret door that leads to a lower level. The button is by the sink.”