Total pages in book: 187
Estimated words: 174623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
There are very few cars in the lot other than ours, and although I don't see anyone else, that doesn't mean someone isn't lurking in the increasing shadows as dusk turns to night.
"I knew this would happen," she mutters. "They needed to be replaced a long time ago. I just haven't had the money."
"It's too convenient for it to happen right now," I assure her, tilting my head a little when I see movement to the far right, feeling relief when a plastic bag rolls across the parking lot, carried on the breeze.
"I have bad luck," she says. "I always have."
The tone of her voice suggests she has been through far more than what was documented online about her life, but it makes me wonder just how much Whitmore has been interfering with her life and for how long.
A flat doesn't seem like a big deal until you start putting all the other shit together with it. It makes her an easy target.
"Let's go," I tell her. "I want you in the SUV while I deal with this.
Thankfully, she doesn't argue, and I get her keys from her before locking her inside. I load her groceries into the back of the SUV before assessing the flat.
I don't notice anything suspicious. There's no obvious puncture hole in the side of her tire. Feeling around the accessible area of the tread doesn't reveal a nail or other object that could've caused it to go flat.
I work on pulling her spare from the trunk, hating the sight of her go-bag back there as much as I hate seeing the poor condition of her spare. She was right. All the tires needed to be replaced a while back, but after the argument over paying for forty dollars' worth of groceries, I get the distinct feeling that she wouldn't be impressed at all if I took it upon myself to replace them for her. Doesn't mean I won't, but I have to keep in mind what level of control that would look like to her, something she wanted to be free from after Whitmore.
I have the flat off and spare ready to go on when an SUV pulls up.
Grinch is the first one to appear in my line of sight, followed by Harley.
"You always have a rescue team on standby?"
I look behind me to see Juliet with the window rolled down in the SUV.
I can't laugh, and the other guys don't either.
She's blaming bad luck on the flat, but I know a little about how easily women are victimized and caught off guard by simple shit like this.
I don't know what my face says, but her smile fades as she rolls up the window.
"I don't feel anything that would cause it to go flat," I say, offering the tire to Harley when he holds his hand out. He walks away to place it in the SUV they just arrived in.
"Max couldn't get any security footage," Grinch says as he looks around the parking lot.
"Not surprising," I mutter as I stand, wiping my hands on my jeans.
"Hopefully, it's just a flat," Harley says as he walks back toward us.
"Hopefully," I say, but it feels too staged.
On the other hand, if someone followed her to the grocery store, they had to have seen us arrive together. They had to know I'd be the one to change the tire.
A thrill, one I normally only get when facing a monster, runs down my spine, and for a moment, I regret sending the text that brought the guys here. I'd love nothing more than to go head-to-head with the bastard terrorizing Juliet.
I open my mouth to speak, but snap it shut when I hear the door to the SUV I put Juliet in open.
"Keys?" she says, walking toward me with her hand out.
"I'd prefer to drive you," I say.
"The flat is fixed. I can drive," she says, curling her fingers to indicate she expects me to drop her keys into her hand.
I catch the smile on Grinch's face before handing them over to her with an exasperated sigh.
"Let me get the jack and stuff back in your trunk," I say, feeling more than a little defeated by her independence.
"Be safe," Harley says before they walk back to their SUV.
With Juliet in her car, I head to the driver's side of the SUV and climb in.
When she pulls away, I follow right behind her.
I get the call before we even make it back to her apartment that there was no damage to the tire. The air had to have been let out manually through the valve stem.
It feels like a slap in the face.
While talking about snack cakes in the store, I could've possibly missed Whitmore's first actual contact with Juliet.
I see it as a warning.
He's letting us know that he's here and willing to play games as long as it takes to gain access to her.