Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91925 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91925 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
“I won’t run.”
It’s the best I can do. I can’t make a promise or declaration beyond that. He buries his face in my neck and stills. Wrapping his arms around me, he holds me tight.
“I’m not the man you let go of last time. This time is different, Rem. I’m not going anywhere. Nothing can take me from you. Trust me.”
He links his fingers with mine and starts to slowly rock into me again. My eyes roll into the back of my head. An ache I can’t explain starts in my heart.
It fills me to the brim as he pushes his way into my body and takes me to new heights. When he latches onto the sensitive skin on my neck, my belly caves and I tighten my hold on his fingers.
I start to quake and squeeze around him. He groans and kisses the side of my face. Not able to hold back a second more, I come all over him.
“Baby steps,” he whispers and nuzzles my neck.
Yeah, baby steps. If I can survive getting him out of this mess, then … maybe then I’ll be ready to say the words.
CHAPTER 39
Small Treasures
Reminisce
I stumble into my office in a daze. I’m not sure how I got here. I haven’t been able to focus for the last hour.
I made an unexpected visit to see my doctor because I’ve been catching nose bleeds all week. At first, I thought it was from all the stress of what’s been going on with Knight and that dirty ATF agent.
Boy, was I wrong. I’m pregnant. I’m having a baby. The baby of a man who has been watching his back for the last three weeks to make sure he’s not killed before we can put away the guy after him.
“Ms. Walden, there’s a woman in your office. She insisted on waiting for you in there,” Mike says as I walk past his desk.
“Who is she?”
“She says she’s a friend of Mr. Moran’s.” My heart starts to race, but Mike’s next words relax me. “He called and confirmed he knows her.”
“Oh, okay. Thanks.”
I walk into my office and find a woman sitting at my desk with her black boots up on it. Her feet are crossed and she’s sitting back like she owns the place. She’s pretty but rough around the edges. Not my usual client.
“How can I help you?” I say.
“Doubt you can, but I’m here to help you. Get what you need, and we can go. Knight was expecting you to be here. We should’ve been gone by now.”
I pull my phone to call him and find out what’s going on. She clicks her tongue and shakes her head. Her heavy boots thud as she lets them hit the floor.
“You won’t reach him. We really should go, sweetheart. I’m Reap by the way.”
She stands and she’s smaller than me. A lot shorter. However, she looks like she’ll kick my ass if I try to protest. I rub my forehead.
“Knight never said anything about me having to go anywhere.”
“Things changed. He mentioned you having panic attacks. He didn’t think it was the best idea to freak you out before I arrived. Look, hon. I’m going to get you to a safe house until this shit blows over.
“It’s a lot bigger than that asshole Broker and we need to protect you until your man gets shit done. Your name is in all the wrong mouths. There isn’t a Lost Soul that’s going to let something happen to Trooper—Knight’s old lady.
“So let me do my job. Trust me, I’d rather be home with my kids,” she says.
I bite my lip and think for a second. I’m not happy, but I nod and start for the door. She catches up to me and steps out before I do.
Something in the way she moves puts me on high alert. I’ve always seen my office as a safe place. I clutch my purse to my chest.
After the shooting four years ago, both Knight and my father insisted that I carry at all times. Never have I been more aware of the extra weight inside my bag. I swallow and lick my dry lips.
“Cancel my appointments for the rest of the day, Mike,” I call out as we pass by his desk. “I’ll email you further instructions as soon as I can.”
“Got it,” he says and waves. I don’t miss that he’s eyeing this Reap chick.
The ride down to the garage is silent. When we step out, a tall blond stands by two motorcycles with a hard expression on his face and his arms folded across his chest. He nods at Reap, and she gives one back.
“Let’s go, we’ve been here too long,” he says.
“Don’t I know it. My skin is starting to itch.” Reap turns to me. “This is my husband, Grim. You’re riding with me.”