Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 107166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Tobias stops speaking as the car slows. “Time’s up for this story. We’ll have to continue it later.”
I’m disappointed that he has to stop his story, but I understand. We’re here to meet Lorenzo, and this is probably not a talk he wants to have in front of such a man. Looking out the window, I see that the car is parked in front of a large warehouse on the docks. The concrete building looks empty. If I’m being honest, it looks completely abandoned. I furrow my brow as I study it. I see that Tobias is looking at me from across the back seat.
“What?”
“Is anyone there? Or are we early?” I ask.
“It just looks like this from the outside. Trust me when I tell you, not only is Lorenzo here but he also has snipers on the top of the building.”
At his words, I move closer to the windowpane to get a better look.
“You won’t see them,” he announces after I have basically squished my body as close to the glass as humanly possible. As hard as I try, there is nothing out there, yet no matter what I see, I believe him. “You getting out?”
“After you,” I respond.
“It’s perfectly safe, Skye. His team knows we are coming. They won’t shoot at you.”
A shiver runs up my spine. Despite his words, I don’t feel safe. Just thinking about getting shot has my body locking up.
“Skye?”
“Hmm?”
“You can open the door.” For some unknown reason, I’m frozen, and I’m not sure what has come over me. My head throbs, and I close my eyes to push away the feeling weaving its way inside.
Unconsciously, I touch my tattoo. I rub it once, twice, and by the third swipe of my thumb, my heart rate calms. My breath comes out in slower bursts as I move past the panic that had built inside me. The door beside me swings open, and I open my eyes to see Tobias, arm extended, eyes staring at me, waiting for me to take his hand.
“Are you okay?” he asks. I’m confused by his change in behavior. For the time I have worked with him, he has been closed off. But now, having him ask me these questions, having him leaning down and staring at me, part of me feels as though he does genuinely care about my feelings. I don’t know him. But a part of me wants to get to know him. The only thing I know so far is that he doesn’t do anything legally. He makes mistakes left and right, and he needs a babysitter, but I also know he cares.
Maybe not necessarily for me, but when I get like this, he seems concerned.
His unwavering gaze does strange things to me. It feels like my face is warming. It’s growing hot, and if I had to harbor a guess, I’d say my face is beet red. A shade reserved for lipsticks one would wear to a gala or fashion show.
“I’m fine.” My voice comes out harsher than I want it to, but I’m already mortified. Telling him I temporarily freaked out for an unknown reason is too much to deal with right now.
He narrows his eyes. A line forms between his brow as he watches me. He’s trying to size me up. There is no getting away from his assessment, but eventually, after a few seconds, he nods, pushes his hand out farther toward me, and offers it again. This time, I don’t reject him. I’m still shaken by what just happened to me. That hasn’t happened since forever. It’s like I go off to a far-off place in my brain, then I don’t know why.
I take his hand and allow him to pull me from the seat and out of the car. My heels hit the pavement; the sound of gravel smashing is in the air. The moment I step out, the first thing that hits me is the smell of seawater. It’s like being on a boat when you’re surrounded by the ocean. I turn to look at the water, the way it crashes against the dock. It’s rough today, so a storm is probably brewing, making the day feel ominous.
I take a deep inhale, pulling the salty air into my lungs and then exhaling it out. Just this small moment does wonders to calm my nerves, and before long, I feel back to normal. I drop Tobias’s hand and take a step toward the warehouse. Tobias matches my pace, and together we make our way to the door.
“Will they just let us in?” I ask, staring up at where the snipers must be.
“Again, they know we’re coming. The door isn’t locked.”
“That doesn’t sound very safe.”
“Oh, it’s locked right now. Here, let me show you.”
The moment we make it to the front, Tobias points at the tiny camera above the door, then he looks right at it and nods his head. Only then do I hear the click.