Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 69310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
When I entered the room, he was sitting in the center of the cowhide leather sofa with a glass of whiskey in his hand, resting on his right thigh. He lifted his gaze to meet mine, and a slight smile touched his lips.
“I turned the AC down so we wouldn’t melt. But, damn, I like a good fire.”
“I see,” I replied as I walked over to set my glass down on the table to the left of the sofa to fill it before having a seat.
“I’ve been trying to work something out in my head, and I’m struggling with it,” Hale said, drawing my attention back to him.
“And that is?” I asked when he didn’t continue.
“You’re stunning, intelligent, and a nice person. Why were you fucking around with a much older married man when you could have had your pick of men?”
Normally, this question would cause me to tense up, get defensive, because I hadn’t been intelligent at all back then. I’d been very, very stupid and naive. But the effects of the wine had me sighing as I sank down on the left side of the sofa, curling my feet up behind me.
“I was young, trusting, and he was the first person in my life to”—I paused, deciding how to explain this—“take care of me. He charmed me, and I thought he loved me.”
“But he was married.”
I nodded and picked up my glass to take a drink. “Indeed, he was. And if I had done any research on him at all, I would have figured that out. But I hadn’t. I wanted our relationship to be built on trust. I wanted everything he said to me to be true.”
He said nothing as he took a drink, watching me over the rim of his whiskey glass.
I glanced from him to the fire. Talking about Harland wasn’t one of my favorite things to do. In fact, until I’d been taken by Hale and forced to remember him, I’d refused to give the man much thought other than loathing.
“You moved in with a man without doing a background check on him?” Hale asked.
Rehashing my past wasn’t something I enjoyed doing, even tipsy. “I did. Biggest mistake of my life,” I replied.
“How did his wife find out?”
I shrugged. “No idea. I was clueless until, one day, I was standing in my boss’s office with a strange woman glaring at me with sheer hatred and disgust, telling me I was fired, that my things had been boxed up and were outside the building, and that I would never work in marketing again. A degree I’d fought hard for. And I loved my job. I was good at it.” I stopped before I went on a rant. My tongue was loose because of the alcohol.
“Where did you go?”
I stared into the fire. That day, I’d been so lost and devastated. I’d not had anywhere to go. “To a cheap hotel at first. Then, when I realized I wasn’t getting a job doing anything in that town, my roommate from college suggested I move back to Virginia. We would get an apartment together. She was a flight attendant back then and helped me get a job.” I glanced over at Hale, who was watching me. “She married a wealthy man. She no longer works,” I told him. “They moved to California a few years ago.”
“You have family,” he said. “A grandmother.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “More info from my background check?”
He nodded, not looking at all remorseful. I had to remember that. Who he was. What he’d done. He, too, had charmed me, and then instead of having an affair with me, he’d abducted me. I had to learn not to trust men.
He was asking me all these personal questions, and I was just sharing it all with him. Yet I was in his house, and he had been shot. There was illegal activity involved in whatever it was he actually did. It was time I asked the questions.
“What is it you do?” I asked point-blank, holding his gaze.
“I own a whiskey distillery,” he replied with a smirk.
I shook my head. “Not that. What is the other business you are involved in. The thing that got you shot, that had you abduct me, threaten to kill Harland and 1A. What is it that you do?” I asked.
He studied me for a moment, then shifted his attention back to the fire before taking another drink. “I was shot, saving an employee who had made some bad financial decisions. Harland was a criminal and was trying to cleanse his past, using Vilmer’s connection to us to do it,” he replied, as if any of that explained anything.
I started to take another drink and realized my glass was once again empty. I should probably stop drinking.
“Who is us?” I asked, deciding to go at this another way.