Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 60023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
I slide down his body listening to his feral hiss.
Oh yes.
This is what I want.
THE SMELL OF COFFEE fills the air, and I cup my hands around a steaming mug, breathing in the rich aroma. The morning sun is bright, and everything feels a little lighter today. I sit at the outdoor table, trying to wipe the grin off my face, but I know I’m failing miserably.
I’ve never felt this way before.
The guys are slowly gathering, no doubt hungover after last night’s efforts. I have to fight the urge to offer them painkillers and water. Zane is the first to appear, shirtless, his hair a wild mess. Knox follows, a woman trailing behind him, half-naked.
Zane walks over to the table, coffee in hand, and stares down at me, eyes narrowed.
“What?” I ask, trying to sound innocent.
He grins. “Have a good night, did we?”
My cheeks burn, and I duck my head, pretending to focus on my drink. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you don’t,” Zane smirks. “That why you’re sittin’ out here instead of in Steel’s bed?”
I roll my eyes, trying to suppress a smile. “I needed coffee.”
Mera walks over to us, her hair a tangled mess. “And some air. After last night, I’m surprised the girl can even walk.”
I flick a sugar packet at her. “Shut your nasty mouth.”
She laughs.
I’m about to respond when Wolfe appears, moving towards us with an expression that wipes the smile right off my face. It’s intense, and his eyes are fixed on me. My heart skips; there is something about his expression...it looks as though he’s about to tell me someone has died.
He isn’t, is he?
He’s holding a phone in his hand, and his eyes do a quick sweep over us before growling. “Where’s Steel?”
My stomach twists, and I know, even without seeing it, that this is bad. Really fucking bad.
“He’s not here. What is it?” I ask, rising to my feet. “What’s wrong?”
Wolfe’s eyes flick to the others, then back to me. “Where’s Steel?” he repeats, avoiding my question.
“Sleeping still. Wolfe, what’s going on?”
He doesn’t answer, his gaze shifting to the building as if Talon will magically appear. He is avoiding me, and I know it. Taking a step closer to him, I reach out, knowing whatever is on his phone, it is bad.
“Wolfe, please,” I say, my voice firm. “Tell me what’s going on.”
He looks at me, and I see the hesitation in his eyes. Then, finally, he speaks. “Someone sent me this.”
He turns the phone, showing me the screen.
A video.
The world tilts as I see her.
Lily.
She’s pale, too pale, her small body curled up, shivering, her cheeks hollow. My heart stops, then pounds, a wild thumping that drowns out everything else. She looks so sick, so fragile, like she’s barely hanging on. I feel like I’m going to throw up, my stomach twisting violently.
The camera zooms in and out, like someone is trying to get the perfect shot.
“Oh God,” I gasp, pressing a hand to my chest.
My knees buckle, and I feel Mera’s hand on my arm, steadying me, holding me up. The screen flickers, and then I see him—my father. His face fills the screen, and I flinch. His face, always calm, always together, looks right at me, as if I’m in the room with him.
“I know you’re watching this, Nia. You have twenty-four hours to give us what we want, or the child dies. The choice is yours. Miriam told us what you have planned. You’re making a grave mistake. May God have mercy on your soul.”
His voice is cold, so cold, and I know he means every word.
The camera cuts back to Lily, her small frame barely moving.
Wolfe’s voice cuts through the heavy silence. “Breathe, girl.”
I can’t. I can’t do this. “Miriam turned on me,” I yell, my voice a mix of pain and anguish. “She fucking turned on me.”
Mera’s voice is soft but urgent. “Hey, look at me. It’s bad, I know, but we’re going to find a way to get her out. I promise.”
I shake my head, my voice a strangled whisper. “She’s going to die in there. Maybe I should go. Maybe I should...”
Wolfe’s eyes are hard, his voice sharp. “If you go now, you’re givin’ them exactly what they want. You stay put. We’ll get her out.”
I fight back the urge to scream. “But what if—”
“No,” Wolfe cuts me off. “We’ll come up with a plan. Do nothin’ until I tell you to.”
The phone slips from my fingers, hitting the ground with a dull thud. I can’t even find the strength to pick it up, to look at it again. It’s too much. I made a promise that I would keep her safe, and now she is sick and it’s all because I didn’t keep that promise.
I should have gone back.
I should have agreed to help Cyrus.