Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 39475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 197(@200wpm)___ 158(@250wpm)___ 132(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 197(@200wpm)___ 158(@250wpm)___ 132(@300wpm)
Maybe that’s why I’m so attracted to him. He’s not what I’m used to.
“What are you doing here?” He drops his eyes to my hands when I don’t answer, and I do the same, realizing that I’m clutching the toilet paper and beer to my chest.
“The guys stole her car, pointed a gun at her, and she’s been out of it since,” the attendant tells Noah before I can get my mouth to work. His eyes narrow.
“Pardon?” he asks quietly.
“Yep, pointed a gun right at her, then got in her car and took off.”
“They pointed a gun at you?” Noah’s gaze meets mine, and I honestly don’t know what to do with the look on his face, but I can see I need to answer very carefully.
“It was for like…a second. Then they took off,” I tell him quietly, and he looks me over.
“Did they hurt you?”
“No,” I assure him as a muscle in his jaw twitches. The walkie on his chest comes to life, and a woman relays some information, along with an address.
“Fuck,” he bites out, his jaw clenched. “I gotta go.” His gaze locks with mine. “Do you have your phone?”
“It was in my car.”
“I’ll call your brother and tell him to come pick you up.”
I shake my head, knowing I don’t want that. I’ve already burdened Aiden enough with my crap. He’s the one I called when I left Conner. And he’s been nice enough, despite our lack of relationship, to let me stay at the house he’s not been living in since he moved in with May. I don’t want him to have to come and get me from a gas station fifteen minutes from his house at seven at night. “I still have my credit card. I can get a cab.”
Noah leans into me, and my breath catches. “I’m calling your brother. I would take you home myself, but I gotta get your car back.” He starts to turn and walk away, and I panic, latching on to his arm.
“Wait, you’re going after them?”
“Yeah, babe.” His eyes drop to my hand on his biceps, and I quickly let him go.
“They have a gun.”
“I know.” He smiles, the expression beautiful but somewhat scary. “Wait inside for Aiden,” he orders. Then, without another word, he turns and heads back to his cruiser and gets behind the wheel. I feel my stomach bottom out as the lights and sirens come on. I wouldn’t say I’ve never been afraid before, but real fear courses through my veins as he drives away.
“So, I’m gonna need you to pay for the toilet paper and beer,” the attendant tells me, and I slowly turn my head his way. “Unless you don’t want the beer.”
“I don’t,” I mumble. He dips his chin, then turns to head into the gas station. With no choice, I follow him inside to pay for the package of toilet paper I do not need while I wait for my brother to come and rescue me once again.
Chapter 2
Bridgett
Broke and Broken
As I’m sitting cross-legged on my couch with my laptop on a pillow next to me, I scroll through a list of vehicles available at a local dealership that offers zero down since I have no money but need a car and quickly.
Last night, Aiden came to pick me up after Noah called him, just like he said he would. And while we were in the car on the way to my place, Noah called him again to let him know my car had been totaled. The guys who robbed the gas station rolled it while being chased down a country road by the police. Thankfully, no one was hurt, including them, but they were banged up enough not to run any farther and were both arrested.
As happy as I was to find out they will be held accountable for what they did, learning that my car would not be returned to me was a blow I wasn’t prepared for. With it being in Conner’s name, he’s the one who will receive the check from the insurance company once they finalize everything. And the chances of him giving that money to me so I can get another vehicle are about as likely as me being kidnapped by a billionaire who is madly in love with me.
Clicking on the photo of a white four-door Toyota that looks to be in good condition, I scroll through the rest of the pictures, then read over the details, honestly having no idea what any of the lingo means. If I were someone else, I’d have a friend or a friend’s husband I could call to ask questions, but I don’t. The friends I had with Conner have all turned their backs on me, proving what I already knew: None of them were really my friends.