He is Creed Three (Windwalkers #3) Read Online Lisa Renee Jones

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal Tags Authors: Series: Windwalkers Series by Lisa Renee Jones
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Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 64702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
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“Believe me, I have no intention of going anywhere without calling you. This is necessary, or I wouldn’t be doing it. I’ll be fast.” I hurry up the stairs, and Creed isn’t far behind. He’s nervous. He doesn’t even want to let me go right here in the condo. I’m not sure I want him to either, but I remind myself my father will not hurt me. He’ll protect me. It’s Creed I should be worried about.

I told my father he’s back.

Chapter Forty-Nine

Lucian

I stand outside the security gates of Zodius City. The instant I step on the identity scanner, the wind shifts, and six soldiers surround me. Tad stands front and center, holding a snub-nose .38 special locked and loaded at my forehead.

“Your service will no longer be needed,” he says, a snide grin on that ugly mug of a face.

“Kiss my ass,” I snap. “You kill me, and Julian will not get Red Dart. I’m the one Brock West trusts.”

Tad chuckles. “I have it from a reliable source that West is locked up inside Lawrence’s lab, a nut job jacked up on some new GTECH serum. He’s useless to us now.”

“That’s impossible. Lawrence doesn’t have any more serum.”

“His attending doctor, Dr. Chin, says differently. See, I have Chin whispering sweet nothings in my ear. Funny how kidnapping his daughter can make things work that way.” His finger tightens on the trigger. “Would you like the bullet between the eyes or in the back of your head?”

In that instant, I believe that, as much as I despise Brock West, we had one thing in common. We would both do whatever was necessary to survive. And Tad—well, Tad was still an idiot. He’s left me unchained and able to escape. I fade into the wind. I’ll help Lawrence before I’ll die.

Chapter Fifty

Addie

I dress in a black skirt and crème silk blouse, pull myself together as best as I can, and inspect my green contacts in the mirror. They seem legit. I hope. My father is a sharp man, but he’s also self-absorbed. I’ll be fine.

Creed is waiting on me when I head back downstairs, apparently dead-set on watching the doors after he’d cleared my room. Our goodbye comes in my garage next to my car, and neither of us want me to go.

He scoops me close. “You don’t have to do this, Addie.”

“And yet, we both know I do, or you wouldn’t have agreed in the first place. Even if my father suspects I’m disloyal to him, he’ll question himself with me present. And most importantly, he won’t hurt me.”

“Are you sure about that, Addie? Because, sweetheart, don’t be angry, please, for me saying this, but you’ve thought a lot of things about your father that he’s proven wrong.”

“I’m not angry. You’re not wrong. But on this, I’m certain.”

“What if you call in sick and ask him to dinner here tonight? Then I can hide—”

“You’ll be busy arresting people and searching facilities. And if I don’t get to work, you may never get the chance. After I told him you’re back, my absence will trigger him. I’ll be fine.”

He cups my head and kisses me hard and fast. “Go now before I don’t let you. I love you, Addie. I should have told you that a long time ago.”

My fingers trail over his jaw. “Tell me again later, when we’re safely back in Sunrise City.”

“Which can’t be soon enough for me.” He releases me, then opens the door for me, and I climb inside, dread in my belly clawing at me.

I’m nervous, and a voice in my head is warning me that this is going to blow up in my face, but I crank the engine anyway. And the only thing that comforts me is knowing Creed will be near.

So much so that when I pull into the facility and exit my car, I can feel Creed in the air around me. He’ll keep me safe, but I won’t need him, I vow. My father is my protector as well. I am safe with him. Creed is not.

***

Near lunchtime, neither my father nor Brock have shown up at the office or made contact, though I’ve left them both messages. Neither is answering my calls, and I’m battling a general sense of unease—a feeling that turns into outright shock when two military officers appear in my doorway.

“You need to come with us, Ms. Lawrence,” one of them commands.

Heart hammering in my chest, I thank God my phone is in my hand and under my desk. I punch in Creed’s number and tuck it in my blazer pocket, praying he’ll be able to hear what’s going on. “What’s happening?” I ask. “Is my father okay?”

“Your father is fine,” the same officer replies. “You need to come with us now.”

I reach for my purse.

“We’ll take your personal items for you,” the second soldier instructs.


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