Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 101872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
“We’re here to speak to Opal Meadows, whose name is actually Patricia Smith,” Eli said.
“What?” Alec asked.
“Yeah, Opal isn’t her real name. And whoever made her a new identity did a good job.”
Alec was confused. He knew that the girls had gotten new identities when they’d escaped Stefan, but Opal was meant to be her real name.
“I don’t get it. When did she start going by Opal?” Jake asked.
“As far as we can make out, about three years ago, when Patricia disappeared. It’s also likely that’s when Opal became the mistress of Stefan Masters. Can any of you confirm when Opal hooked up with Masters?”
“Nope,” Alec said easily. Although he thought that timing could be right.
“So you’re saying Masters created this new identity for her when she became his mistress?” Saxon asked. “So he could keep her hidden?”
“Maybe,” Kellan said. “Perhaps to make sure no one came looking for her. Who knows? Only Opal can help us with that.”
“Which means talking to her.” Eli scowled at Jake.
“She’s fragile at the moment,” Alec told them.
“Reading about her, she doesn’t seem that fragile,” Eli said.
“You can’t figure someone out by reading about them on a piece of paper,” Saxon drawled. “You should know that.”
Eli nodded. “Fine.”
“So why do you want to talk to Opal or Patricia?” Duncan asked. “What does it matter if she changed her identity?”
“Because Patricia Smith is wanted for questioning in a murder.”
Fuck.
Fucking fuck.
39
“No.” Renard stood over her, frowning and shaking his head.
“I have to.”
“Not happening.”
“It has to happen at some stage,” she argued.
“Don’t see why,” he said.
“You don’t see why? Renard, I live there! I have to go back there sometime.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Oh yeah? Then where am I going to live? Here?” She kind of regretted the words as soon as they came out of her mouth. What was she doing? Just inviting herself to live with him?
What was wrong with her?
Sure, they’d said they loved each other, but that didn’t mean that he wanted to live with her.
“No.”
Wow. That was a very definite no. And it kind of hurt. She had to fight hard to keep that from showing on her face.
“Because this place ain’t good enough for you. But you’ll stay here with me until we find a place you deserve.”
“A place I deserve?” she asked, her mind reeling.
She couldn’t keep up.
“Gem, this is a place where you stay when you’re in between better places.”
“But you’ve lived here for years.”
His gaze turned intense. “Because before I met you, I was living in the in-between. I was here, but didn’t want to be. I was breathing, but I wasn’t really living. There was a better place I was longing for, but I couldn’t get there because I didn’t think I deserved it.”
“Your cabin?”
“My cabin. You know, I had it all planned out. A small place somewhere quiet and isolated. But not now.”
“Not now?” she asked.
He walked over to where she sat on the sofa and crouched down in front of her. Reaching up, he cupped the side of her face.
“Nope. I want to be wherever you are. My home is with you. Just not here, though, since it’s not good enough for my girl.”
Jesus.
His girl.
He sure knew the way to make her melt.
“We could live in my house,” she suggested.
“Not liking the idea of that either,” he told her.
“Because you think I’m going to freak out?” she asked. “Because of Barney?”
“Do you think you can wake up every morning and walk out your front door and see that house without it shaking you up? Without it making you feel something?”
Her stomach rolled at the idea.
Shit.
He’d stolen her house from her. The bastard.
“Where is Mrs. G?” she asked suddenly, worried about her. Surely, she wasn’t back home?
“Staying with the neighbors two doors down. That house isn’t our cabin, Gem. Our cabin, our forever, it’s somewhere else. Somewhere close to here with quiet for me, but enough people for you to get what you need. Somewhere we can both live in peace.”
Both of them. Together.
“Okay,” she whispered, putting her hand on his cheek.
“Where our nightmares might visit sometimes, but they’re not allowed to stay.”
“Have you had more nightmares lately? Since I was taken?” Had she been so wrapped up in her fears and nightmares that she hadn’t seen his?
What was wrong with her?
“What’s wrong with me?” she repeated out loud. “I didn’t even notice that you—”
He leaned forward and put his hands on the sofa on either side of her. “Baby, stop.”
“Stop?”
“Yeah, I have nightmares. Yeah, those nightmares have made themselves more known since you were kidnapped. And you haven’t noticed because you’ve been fucking recovering. My nightmares have been there for years. They’ll be there for years to come. But mostly, with you around, they’ve become a whisper rather than a roar. Am I scared I’m gonna lose you like I lost all of my friends? Fuck yes. I am. But all that means is I’m going to work hard to make sure nothing happens to you.”