Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 57028 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57028 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Evie: She’d called him a liar. Because she knows he wears cufflinks.
Dom: Now we’re going to get into a debate about whether or not cufflinks constitute jewelry.
Evie: Don’t you wear necklaces, rings, anything like that?
Dom: I’m afraid not, but if you want to make to get me a gift, I won’t turn you down.
Evie: It probably means I’m crazy, but I’ve been thinking about it.
Dom: Why would it mean you’re crazy?
She sends an eye-rolling emoji, as if the answer is obvious. And it is. I just don’t want to face up to it.
To hammer the point home, she texts back.
Evie: You don’t need to ask me that, Warden.
I’m her prison warden, so obviously it’s insane that she’d feel the urge to make me a gift. Having the studio built is the most heartfelt thing I’ve ever done for anyone, but it doesn’t automatically make this okay.
Rafe returns with a map in his hand.
“My friend is going to cut your hands loose so you can show where your gang is hiding,” I say. “Try something, Bobby, and it’ll be the last thing you do.”
Rafe takes a knife from his ankle holster and cuts Bobby’s hands loose. Trembling like he’s on the verge of a panic attack, Bobby indicates a location on the map.
“Bind him up,” I say. “Gag him. Bobby, try not to freak. If you’re telling the truth and we find The Vultures there – or evidence they were there – I’ll turn you over to the cops. Nobody will hurt you. You have my word.”
Rafe does as I say, and then we step into the hallway.
“These men burned down one of your studios, Dom.”
“I know.”
“And you’re treating him like this is the goddamn Ritz.”
“Look at him, Rafe. Scared out of his mind. He’s not the man in charge.”
“That wouldn’t matter to—”
I grab Rafe’s shirt and shove him against the wall. “Mention my father again, and we’re going to have a problem.”
Fear flickers into Rafe’s eyes, and then a slow smile spreads across his lips. “Ah, there he is, the Dom I remember.”
I let him go, disgusted. Sorry, I almost say, but the words won’t form.
“It’s time to tool up and head out.”
“I’m assuming, despite this Good Samaritan routine, if The Vultures shoot at us, we’re allowed to shoot back?”
CHAPTER 16
EVIE
Ilose myself in my work for a time. A time… because when I get into a flow like this, minutes and hours cease to matter. There’s just me and my craft. I only stop when I realize my thoughts are dancing away into tempting fantasies that amount to betrayals.
I imagine Dom walking in here–a different life, one that didn’t start with a kidnapping. He brings me a coffee and gently kisses me on the cheek. The scene has a husband-wife air that causes a smile to spread across and stick to my face.
Pushing away from the bench, I take off my goggles and run my hand over my engraved name one more time.
“Meatball?” I call, standing and stretching my arms over my head.
He’s nowhere in sight. I leave the studio, walking through one of the terraced gardens, calling his name. All around me, Topanga Canyon stretches out, desolate, isolated, a reminder of how fruitless running would be…
Or would it? My search takes me past the infinity pool, through another garden, and to the edge of the property where the walls reach up at least ten feet. There’s no obvious way to climb them and, if I did, no clear path to drop to the other side without hurting myself.
But Dom left hours ago, and I haven’t even searched for a landline phone, a laptop with an internet connection, anything. Who would I contact if I found one of these, though? I can’t call or message Tasha. She’s with Dom’s friend… unless he lied to me, which I somehow know he didn’t.
I trust my kidnapper. That’s a problem. One I feel less and less willing to fix as time goes on.
As I approach the front of the house, I hear a meow from above me. Looking up, I spot Meatball curled up in a cat tree built into the side of the house. Steps scale around the house, leading to more cat trees.
“He built all this for you, huh?”
Meatball meows contentedly, stretching and then walking along the steps gracefully, before climbing down and rubbing his body against my leg.
“Are you hungry?” I ask.
Meatball follows me into the large house. The entranceway is bigger than mine and Tash’s apartment. On the wall, there’s a photo of a younger Dom in military gear, the background of a desert. He’s got his arm over another man, both of them with wild beards, and more men smile in the background.
“This must be his SEAL team,” I murmur. “He lost all of these men, Meatball. All his buddies. And they tried to bury him with them. I wonder if part of him would’ve preferred if that happened so he didn’t have to live with the survivor's guilt.”