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)
I stand in the middle of her tiny living room, hearing the click of the lock on her bedroom door.
It doesn't feel insulting, just like wanting me to wait outside while she's vulnerable in the shower.
What feels weird to me is walking into her bathroom, the steam from her shower still in the air, the air coated with the delicious floral scent of her soap.
I'm not some creep who's going to jerk it in her shower, but that doesn't stop my cock from thickening a little as I strip off my clothes.
My shower is economical and fast. I don't waste a second spending extra time under the showerhead. I pull a towel from the duffel, grateful that Em thought about everything I would need because the last thing I want is to create laundry for Juliet to be responsible for.
I get dressed, use the towel to wipe the condensation from the mirror, and leave the bathroom, having been in there for less than ten minutes.
I don't know why I thought she might've come out of her room while I was in the shower, but her bedroom door is still closed.
The apartment is silent, making me realize just how much she lucked out with this place. A lot of the time, apartment complexes can be loud and stressful, with neighbors not respecting others' space.
I didn’t tell Juliet about the tire issue. She didn't seem too concerned about it being flat, just another hint that she has had a lot of things not go her way in life, but I don't know if that's the right way to go about things.
I feel like her attending the fundraiser tomorrow is reckless, but I also know that I can't put her in a bubble to keep her safe.
I don't want to control her on any level. If anything, I want her to be free to do whatever she wants without worrying about her safety, but that's not the world we live in. It certainly isn't possible when Whitmore is out there making himself known in some of the creepiest ways.
I know Kincaid is right about getting sleep, but sitting on the sofa and trying to relax feels like I'm letting her down.
I know the guys outside won't let anything happen to us. I wasn't lying to her that we were safe, but experience tells me that a million things can happen that have the ability to reach us.
I remind myself that this isn't the Middle East. I highly doubt that Whitmore has the types of weapons that could pulverize a target from half a mile away. I also doubt he's going to try anything less than a hands-on attack on Juliet. He's waited too long, been too patient to let someone else get that final revenge.
I doubt self-preservation is a concern for him. I bet he's made up his mind and is willing to die for his mission so long as he can take Juliet out first, and that's my biggest concern. He's not going to give up until he gets what he wants or someone stops him.
I text Max, checking in to see if there's been any news, but he texts back, letting me know there’s been no movement he can track or any credit card use. Digitally, he's gone dark, and I know it has to be just one more thing the man has planned.
I know he'll slip up. He'll do something or get caught on a traffic camera, but it's the waiting and not knowing that eats at me.
We knew where he was, tracking him in his hometown, and this problem could've been solved a while back.
We're not even at a point where we can file stalking charges against the man because he's been too clean about his contacts.
I run my hands over my head, frustrated with the entire situation, and fight the urge to get up and pace back and forth between the front window and the back door of the apartment.
Tomorrow is going to be stressful, and there's no way to really prepare for it. I doubt Whitmore is going to show up and just start letting bullets fly, but I doubt the day goes by without him making some kind of contact.
My worry is that he's going to stay in the shadows, poking and prodding, messing with her mind until the one moment he feels like he can strike.
It's not going to be this huge display of power. He's too sneaky and calculated for something like that, but whatever he's planning won't end well for Juliet.
We just have to be fully prepared, ready for any situation.
I lean back on the sofa, letting my eyes drift closed and pulling in deep breaths.
There's no denying the exhaustion in my bones. I've been going nearly nonstop with very little rest for days, and although it's something I've done in the past and can manage, you can't talk your way out of no sleep. There comes a point when your body shuts down, and I don't need that to happen when she needs me the most.