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)
So she nodded. “Be safe.”
“I will.” He hesitated. “I’ll try not to kill any of your brother’s men, but I can’t make any promises.”
“Thank you.” She pulled him in for a quick kiss. “But do what you have to in order to come back to me safely.” She pushed off before she could think too closely about the danger he was going back into, swimming for the gap in the rock leading out into the Sound. She stuck close to the rock ledge, but she had to stop for a moment in awe as Jude shot past her, more seal than human, his strong arms cutting through the water. He grabbed the edge of the cliff and pulled himself out of the water, scaling it fast enough to steal her breath.
He’s magnificent.
She pushed forward again, all too aware that she wasn’t in any sort of shape to be able to swim indefinitely, even with the exercise she’d been getting since living in Callaway Rock. Already, her muscles cried out in protest, her breath coming in short gasps.
She almost sobbed with relief when the inlet came into sight. She swam harder, fighting her way to the tiny rock beach. It took a few minutes to figure out where Jude had hidden the boat—it was cleverly disguised as a boulder beneath some shrubbery—and uncover it.
Then she sat down, cold and shivering despite the relatively warm day, to wait.
* * *
Jude hated knowing Sloan was alone in the water, but there were things in that house he couldn’t leave behind. Not even for her. He moved through the trees, more ghost than man despite his soaked pants. He expected some sort of resistance, but the fools had been so focused on getting into the house, they hadn’t set a perimeter. An amateur mistake and not one they’d have made if they really understood the threat he was.
He climbed a tree with perfectly placed notches. It was one of the only ones he’d allowed close to the house, exactly for this reason. He moved across the branches to the roof. The widow’s walk on the third floor appeared only decorative, but there was a narrow staircase leading down directly to the first-floor pantry. It was the perfect place to hide valuables—something the original owner of the house utilized. Jude had taken a page from his book and stashed his bag in this room every time he stayed here. The worst that could happen was a fire, and even if it did, he could grab his shit and escape into the trees.
The bastard who’d built the house had been a paranoid fuck, something Jude appreciated, especially considering his current circumstances.
He could hear the O’Malley men moving through the house below him, their frustration evident. They’d trash the place before they were through. A pang went through him at the thought. He might only come here a few times a year, but this was one of the few places in the world he considered safe. It never would be again—and not just because he’d never set foot in the place after today. It was being defiled by the men below him, tearing the place apart and leaving their imprint everywhere.
He should have known that nowhere was truly safe.
The truth was that there would always be someone gunning for him—gunning for her. Should have considered that her brother would put a tracker on her. He hadn’t considered a lot of things when it came right down to it. That was his fuckup. She was new to the game. He’d been living it his entire life.
Jude slipped through the small door and worked his way down to the first floor. He was in the process of sliding the pantry wall back into place when footsteps sounded at his back. He twisted as the enemy’s gun came up, grabbing his wrist and pointing the pistol away from him.
Then he saw the man’s face.
Micah Jones.
This wasn’t an O’Malley man. This was a motherfucking Sheridan.
Micah opened his mouth, likely to call for help, and Jude let go of his wrist long enough to punch him in the gut. Warring thoughts slammed through his head as he punched Micah again.
I promised Sloan I wouldn’t kill anyone.
He’s not an O’Malley.
He’s also barely more than a kid. He wasn’t even alive when my family was killed.
That stopped him. He pocketed the handgun and shoved Micah to the ground. The idiot kept trying to stand, obviously not recognizing a losing battle when he saw it. It would be so fucking easy to just put a bullet in his brain and be done with it.
He pistol-whipped Micah, and this time the man lay still. Finally. Jude headed for the back door, looking to get the fuck out before he had to kill someone. It wasn’t only because of his promise, though he was just getting used to the idea of maybe being worthy of a woman like Sloan. Murdering his way through her brother’s men wasn’t the way to go about putting them on the right path forward. He was past the point of thinking that it shouldn’t matter what Sloan thought of him. It did. He cared about her, and fuck if he’d do anything to hurt her if he had any other choice.