Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
The sun is blinding when I’m guided to a long line of SUVs. When Alek said four, I assumed he meant guards in total, not four SUVs full.
“Watch your head.” Ghost places his hand on my head before dipping it down so it doesn’t bump into the car’s roof. He slides in next to me, and Alek and another man sit across from us.
We don’t wear seat belts as our driver careens us down a hilly terrain. We weave and bob so badly, I’m glad I didn’t eat much of the breakfast Ghost arrived with this morning.
“What’s wrong?” Alek asks, staring my way. “Feeling queasy?”
I move my head only an inch before he cuts off my reply with a stern glare. After scratching the area on his body where I stuffed my photographs, he murmurs, “Pregnancy will do that. Just don’t vomit on my shoes. I only purchased them last week.”
His game plan dawns on me when the driver says, “Don’t fucking puke. The interior was recently detailed.”
Alek gives me a praising smile when I shoot my hand up to my mouth. My gag is unladylike and so authentic, Ghost demands, “Pull over at the church coming up on the left.”
“He—”
“Do you want fucking puke in your car?” Ghost interrupts the driver, his voice heart-shuddering. The driver stares at him in the rearview mirror for three terrifying seconds before he shakes his head. “Then pull the fuck over.” As the driver follows his demand, Ghost speaks into the cuff of his suit jacket. “Taking a detour. Keep an eye out for the Yurys. I’ll secure Mary.”
I realize I’m Mary when he grips my arm a second after the driver stops at the back of an old church, and he tugs me out. The men in the cars following us pile out as well, but only Alek shadows Ghost’s angry stalk.
We only just break through the threshold of the bathroom when Ghost’s demeanor immediately changes. He crowds me against the door, his aura forever brooding, but his hold is gentle since he cups my jaw instead of gripping my neck.
“I need you to listen to me and do everything I ask.” My chin barely graces my chest when he adds, “There are canisters of urine in the top drawer of the bathroom of your new room. Anytime you use the toilet, pour some of the liquid from the canisters into the bowl before flushing.”
“Why would I—”
He silences me by squashing his index finger to my lip.
“We don’t have time.” Even with his statement sounding one hundred percent honest, he still waits for me to nod in acknowledgment before continuing, “If anyone asks to examine you, tell them he said no, and that he wants his Mary to remain untainted. If they argue, ask one of the nuns to contact me. I will only need to take down one insolent fool for the rest to fall into line.”
My stomach gurgles at the thought of being poked and prodded again, but I tuck away the flare of doubt, confident Ghost will protect me as well as he does Lera.
“He will want to parade you around. Go along with it for an hour, then say you’re tired.” I feel nothing close to pure when he murmurs, “And always wear white. Pure white. It will make him less suspicious that your pregnancy is fraudulent.”
“I’m not pregnant?”
Relief and worry flood me at once when Ghost shakes his head. “Little hard when you haven’t been inseminated with his semen in over a month.” I feel his frustration when he mutters, “But this is the only way he will lower his suspicions enough for us to get the info we need. I don’t want to send you away, but for the moment, it is for the best.”
I don’t get the chance to ask how long he thinks our separation will last. Alek bangs on the door, alerting us that our time is up. “We’ve got three heading our way.”
“Out of everything I said,” Ghost mutters, drawing my focus back to him. “The first point is the most prolific. They regularly check HCG levels, and although the main doctor there is on my payroll, five others aren’t.”
My eyes bulge. Why the hell do they need six doctors?
“I said don’t get vomit on my shoes,” Ghost shouts, startling me. I grimace when he kicks up the lid with the toe of his boot before he dumps a handful of the jellybeans he carries for Lera into the bowl. “For fuck’s sake.” His grip on my arm is firm, but it won’t leave a mark. “Let’s go before you puke on me some more.” After we exit the bathroom, he shakes his foot, sending the three goons stumbling backward. “I’m never eating scrambled eggs again.”
It is the fight of my life to hide my smile, but I manage—somewhat.