Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 103380 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 517(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103380 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 517(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
I’d watched enough TV to know it had a silencer on it.
I wanted to laugh at the irony of it all. I’d been morosely thinking about the press starting rumors about my dead body going undiscovered in my house based on an unkempt yard, but that was exactly what was about to happen. Even Preston wouldn’t miss me for a while, since he was in D.C. meeting with the power players to try and get more endorsements for me.
In that split second as I waited for the bullet to pierce my body, I thought about Brody. We’d had that twin thing early on in our lives where we could feel each other’s emotions when they were heightened enough, but I doubted that link remained, at least for him. I still had the occasional sensation of happiness come over me at the strangest of times, and since my life wasn’t exactly the epitome of joyful, I’d had an idea of where that feeling had come from. It had been confirmed when I’d seen my brother with his men.
If he was listening, I tried to convey something other than the fear I was feeling, along with the regret of knowing I’d never be able to make things right with him.
The man aimed the gun at me. “You’re getting off easy,” was all he said. I watched as his finger settled over the trigger. I could have begged for my life, but I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction. Not with the dead look in his eyes, and most certainly not after everything he’d said to me in the emails…I just hoped like hell my death would satisfy whatever insanity was driving him and he’d stay away from Brody.
“Fuck you,” I whispered.
The man’s mouth pulled into a sneer, but before he could pull the trigger, there was a loud crashing sound as the kitchen window suddenly exploded. I instinctively turned my head away as glass went flying, but I didn’t feel any of it penetrating my body. I heard a popping sound, but didn’t know what it was at first. But when the guy threw himself past me and towards the hallway that led to the main part of the house, I realized I was, in fact, hearing gunfire.
Just not from his gun.
I turned in the direction the shots were coming from and watched in amazement as a man calmly stepped through what was left of the large picture window. He had a huge gun in his hand and it, too, had a silencer on it.
“Get down!” he ordered, his voice loud, but not panicked.
I instantly dropped to my ass as bullets flew over my head, and I realized the guy was still trying to shoot the man as he escaped the kitchen. The guy stepped past me and disappeared down the same hallway. My gut was telling me to run, but I was in a state of shock at the close call. I had no idea who the guy who’d just shot out my window was, but I had to assume, since he hadn’t blown my head off when he’d had the chance, he wasn’t my enemy.
I heard more popping sounds, and then a few seconds later, a heavy tread as footsteps came my way. I knew I should try to hide in case it was the first guy coming back, but I couldn’t find the strength to move. My hand hurt like hell, as did my jaw. My side also hurt and I wondered if some of my ribs were fractured.
I dropped my head back against the wall as I tried to catch my breath. But within seconds, the second guy reappeared and he dragged me to my feet. He was huge…bigger than me, even. I suspected he was older than me by at least fifteen years, putting him well over forty. His short hair was a mix of black and silver and barely looked ruffled, considering everything that had just happened. He was wearing military-style clothes, all black. His upper arms were huge, with muscles bulging beneath the fabric of his T-shirt. I finally noticed that, in addition to the huge handgun he was carrying, he had a second gun hanging by a strap at his hip. It was considerably bigger than the handgun, but not quite as big as a rifle. It also had a silencer on it, and I wondered if he’d used that gun to shoot out my window.
“We need to go,” he said. He may as well have been telling me about the weather because, despite his declaration, he was utterly calm. I felt sensation spark to life just beneath the surface of my skin where he was holding me by the upper arm.
“What?” I asked. Was he serious? Go? I wasn’t fucking going anywhere. Not until I got some answers.