Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 80139 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80139 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Men? For sure. I’m damned good at it, too. But I draw the line at women and children.
According to Vega, this woman has been popping up on his radar all week. He’s been tracking her Internet use and while the dark web is more difficult to track, this girl obviously didn’t know what she was doing and left herself open to malware. Then, when she was slinking around Adriana’s place in Austin, a security camera caught her.
That was the perfect chance to grab her. She’ll be some leverage, especially since her father is incompetent at the moment.
I’m supposed to take her back to Columbia.
I’m excited about getting home and getting some good food in my body, but I wasn’t planning on bringing a hostage.
Her name is Robin. Robin Bellamy. The second child of Austin and Starling Bellamy. Or maybe the third. She’s a twin and I don’t know which one came first.
A sweet little Robin who left the nest. Who spread her wings too far.
She’s still lying down, out cold from the tranquilizer dart I plunged into her neck.
And a beautiful neck it is. I lean down to pick her up, but then I stop and just stare at her.
Skin that is slightly tan, hair that is long, dark, and thick, like an ebony curtain. I’m not sure what color her eyes are, but I’d bet they’re dark brown. Bittersweet chocolate, much like my own.
All I know is that her lashes are long and thick and lying on her cheeks.
And her cheeks… Just a hint of coral rosiness. Her lips are perfectly formed, just the right amount of fullness.
She’s a fucking angel.
Leave it to Vega to make me the guardian over an angel.
I wouldn’t take a million dollars to rough this angel up.
I quickly pluck the tranquilizer dart out of the back of her neck. It leaves a slight pink welt. A tiny blemish on an otherwise perfect human.
Thank God Vega didn’t ask me to kill her.
No one knows, of course, that I’ve never actually killed. I have my own backstory that I’m happy to tell anyone over a few beers or a good bourbon. I’m a champion embellisher. No one spins a tall tale like I do, and more people in my circle are petrified of me than aren’t.
I’m still staring at her.
Still amazed at her beauty.
And I’m glad I’ve kept my hands clean all these years. Well, clean of murder at least. My hands have done a lot of other bad things.
But I haven’t committed the ultimate sin. And I know it won’t be long before that changes.
I lean down, inhale the woman’s scent. She smells like soap and flowers.
I brush a thick lock of hair off her forehead and then lean down farther, brushing my lips against her soft skin.
I could easily violate her. Take her right here, right now. No one would know, including her.
It wouldn’t be the worst thing I’ve done, although it would be the first time I took a woman without her consent.
But not this angel. I can’t. She’s perfection, and no one should ever soil perfection.
I lift her in my arms and carry her toward my car in the garage.
“I promise you this,” I whisper to the unconscious woman. “Even though I’m taking you far from your home, I’ll keep you safe. I’ll keep you safe, Robin Bellamy.”
7
ROBIN
“Not again,” I whisper.
Concrete. It’s always fucking concrete. I suppose because it’s impossible to escape from concrete unless you have a jackhammer.
No sink or toilet. Just the dirty old cot.
And damn, I have to pee.
Whoever put me here left a plastic pail in the corner. I’ll have to be nearly bursting before I use that.
Where was I before? What the hell happened?
I was…
My mind is so fuzzy, but then it comes to me. I was skulking around Adriana de la Fuente’s place.
Alone.
That was my first mistake.
Everything bad in my life has happened when I’ve been alone.
Alone, without my big hulking brothers to protect me. Or my father. Or even my sister, who, though I never thought she was as tough as I was, kicked cancer’s ass with strength and grace.
Damn…
Is this going to turn into as big a mess as the one I got myself into back in Romania?
A shiver races through me.
I look around again. Same dark cell, same smelly cot. Bars on one side of my cell, but nothing to see. Just more concrete walls.
I smack my lips. They’re already starting to chap, and God, my mouth is dry. I feel like I’m trapped in the desert, looking for water. I’d drink out of the fucking toilet if I had one.
But there’s nothing. I even look under the stupid cot.
Wait…
Something glints near the edge of the wall. I reach all the way under the cot—it’s so narrow that my arms are long enough—and pull out the object.