Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Montana. Fuck. Addyson and I had discussed naming our child either Arizona or Montana because we hadn’t been sure in which state he’d been conceived. He…not they.
She’d known all along. She’d planned it for months and months. The bitch had stolen one of my children and left one behind. How? How could anyone be that cruel?
“Are you certain, Sam?”
“It’s the story he’s given us. I haven’t seen Addyson yet nor has he mentioned her. But, so far, I’ve been able to validate everything he’s told us. There’s still more work to do, but I’m going to be honest…I believe him.”
“Why try kidnapping him now? There’s been absolutely no contact in nineteen years but now she decides she wants to finally meet her son? And that kidnapping was the fucking solution for that?” I knew I was screaming and that it might worry Micah, so I stood up and turned around to open the bedroom door and let him know I was going to be awhile. I froze when I noticed the door was cracked open. It hadn’t been earlier.
It wasn’t really that big of a deal—shouldn’t worry me that much at all…but it did. Something was wrong. I walked toward the door and felt my heart rate ramp up with each step. At the opening, I pushed the door wide and stared at the empty room. Where the fuck had he gone? Why? He knew better.
“Samantha, take care of my son. Do not let him go near Russia or his mother until I get home. I’ll call you back later.”
She was screaming for me not to hang up as I disconnected the phone. I had to trust she would take care of mine while I tried to take care of her godson. From the looks of the empty room, I was doing a fucking bang-up job of it. He wasn’t angry with me. We’d just made love. Why would he have risked his safety and left our room?
With frustration and confusion raging through me, I strode over to the door and yanked it open. The hallway was empty…well, almost empty. It looked like Trevor was once again on his perch at the end of the hallway, overlooking the beauty of Milan. From where I stood, I could see he had earbuds in his ears so it would be a waste of time to yell at him. Maybe he saw Micah leave the room?
With limited options, I made my way toward Trev. Nothing around me seemed amiss but the hair on the back of my neck stood straight up. My right hand moved cautiously to rest on the gun I had tucked into the back of my pants. I was surely overreacting. I’d broken the golden rule and fallen in love with my client and karma was making me pay for it—she was trying to scare me to death.
“Hey, Trev,” I said as I gave him a gentle nudge. “Have you seen Micah?”
As soon as I nudged him, Trev started to fall over. He landed in a heap on the cushioned sofa he’d spent so much time on while we’d been there. A knife was buried deep into his side. The hilt was the only thing I could see. His Captain America T-shirt was coated in blood around the wound.
“Trevor! Trevor! Can you hear me?” I laid him on the sofa, careful of his wound, and called the desk downstairs. “We need emergency personnel on the nineteenth floor. Someone has been stabbed. Send help now.” I checked his pulse. It was weak, too fucking weak. “He’s still alive, but barely. Call 112 immediately!” That was the telephone number for emergency medical service in Europe, and I thanked God I had the presence of mind to remember it.
When they promised to send help immediately, I checked Trevor one more time. I couldn’t pull the knife out—it would do more damage. After a quick check of the damage to his body, I thought the boy might get lucky because they’d missed his vital organs, but that wouldn’t help the loss of blood he’d already sustained. His breathing was shallow and his skin clammy.
“Fuck,” I growled. “Come on, kid; hang on. We’ve got this. You’ll be fine.” It pissed me off even more because I knew how weak he was from not eating properly. His eyes fluttered open and after a few seconds, he focused on me. He tried to smile. His teeth were coated in blood and some leaked from the corner of his lip.
“They’re looking for Jinx, Landon. Find him. Rooftop,” he whispered and then his eyes shut again.
I heard the elevator door open and I yelled at the medical staff. “He’s here! Hurry!” When they got close enough to hear me, I added, “It’s bad. Do you have an ambulance on the way?”