Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
But Jessica shook her head. “No way. I would know, because I’m up by the time they take the boats out. I see him, but only at weird hours. Plus, that’s what he told Marge when she asked last month.”
She just couldn’t see it. Sloan stood, weaving slightly on her feet. “That’s absurd. I’m going to go tell him exactly how absurd that is. Marge is a nice lady and he shouldn’t be lying to her.”
Jessica laughed. “Right. I’m sure that’s exactly why you’re going over there.”
She found herself laughing, too, and sobered. Or tried to. “I’m very angry with him. I think I’ll tell him that, too.” She looked at the old clock on the wall behind the bar. Between half the numbers being faded and the alcohol making the room swim, it took her a few seconds to translate. It was after ten. She hadn’t realized she and Jessica had been here quite so long.
It’s not that late. He’ll be awake.
“Go get him, tiger.” Jessica tossed two bills on the table and stood. “I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning.”
It took her mind a few seconds to catch up. Right. Yoga. “Looking forward to it.” And she was. She understood how addicting the practice could get. Kind of like her growing addiction to Jude.
No. I’m angry with him. I’m going over there to give him a piece of my mind.
Of course you are.
She ignored the snide little voice inside her that sounded remarkably like her older sister and walked out into the night. Sloan paused to stretch, her muscles protesting faintly. It felt good, though, like she’d really pressed herself today. She started for the beach, but she only made it about a block before it dawned on her how dark it actually was on the streets of Callaway Rock.
In her time here, she hadn’t made a habit of going out after sunset—especially since sunset was at nearly nine in the evening—so she hadn’t noticed that there weren’t many street lamps. With all the businesses shut down for the day, there was only the faintest of lights shining through the windows lining the street. It should have made the whole town look sleepy and comfortable, but some instinct she hadn’t realized she had perked up and sounded the alarm.
Sloan turned a slow circle, studying her surroundings as well as she could through the shadows holding dominance. There was no one out, and though she’d only walked a block, the relative noise of the bar seemed worlds away. Anything could happen to her and no one would know about it until morning.
“Stop it,” she told herself. Her voice sounded small and scared. “Stop it right now. This isn’t Boston. You aren’t in danger here.” But she felt like she was, as if some sniper had her in his scope and was currently caressing the trigger.
She took a big step back, reaching behind her for the brick wall of the market, her heart beating too hard. No one knows where I am…that I know of. That thought wasn’t nearly as comforting as it should have been. Someone could have found her. They could be waiting just around the corner to throw her in a car and take her home.
What if it isn’t my family who’s found me?
Fear wrapped itself around her throat, making it hard to breathe. She knew the O’Malleys had enemies. Her youngest brother, Devlin, had paid the price because of those enemies. They might not be actively at war at the moment, but that didn’t mean that snatching her off the street wouldn’t be a coup for whoever managed to do it.
Oh God, I am so incredibly stupid.
She started moving, because the only other option was to stand still and wait for morning. Her tennis shoes beat a quick rhythm on the pavement, and she could almost swear she heard a second set of footsteps echoing hers, just a breath off. Panic swelled, swallowing any ability to rationalize away her fear. She glanced over her shoulder, saw a shadow detach from the market building, and couldn’t contain herself any longer.
Sloan full-out ran.
Chapter Nine
Jude bolted awake to the sound of someone pounding on his door. He surged to his feet, halfway to the door before he registered that he’d been asleep in the first place. What time is it? He checked the peep hole, frowned, and shoved his gun into the nearest drawer before opening the door. “Sloan? What are you doing here?” How long had he slept? The last thing he remembered was showering and sitting on the couch to figure out his next step.
Can’t believe I fell asleep.
“Jude, thank God.” She rushed inside and stopped short, as if realizing that it might be rude to charge in uninvited. She raised shaking hands to tuck her hair behind her ears, and only then did he notice how pale she was.