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)
My back molars grind together, knowing how stubborn some people can be. She’s been running for nearly twelve years, and it seems to have worked for her so far. It may be more than a little difficult to accept that she needs help.
"I'd like to work at Juniper House again tomorrow," I say. "I know it's—"
"I think that's a good idea," Kincaid interrupts.
I dip my head, grateful I don't have to explain my reasoning because, honestly, I have no idea why I've taken such an interest in her case. I just know that the woman is in danger, and I'll do anything and everything in my power to make sure that piece of shit ex of hers doesn't have a chance to finish what he started all those years ago.
I'll kill the man on sight and deal with the consequences later.
"You plan to visit the private investigator when you track him down?" I ask Kincaid.
He dips his head. "We do."
"I'd like to tag along," I say.
"We'll let you know when we find him," Shadow says, not disagreeing with me or telling me that my services are best used here in New Mexico.
I watch him for a long moment, feeling respected when he holds my eyes before turning my gaze to Kincaid, who is also watching me.
They all know I have a certain skill set that is needed at times, but I doubt they'll just let me handle that fucking PI the way I think he should be handled. Although it feels like a test, I know I have to keep my shit under control to stay with Cerberus. Maybe it's a good idea to try it in a controlled situation with a man who gave information, rather than trying it on the man who has devious plans for his ex-wife.
"We'll ask for restraint," Kincaid says, putting my thoughts into words.
I pull in a deep breath, releasing it slowly. "I'll do my best."
Chapter 14
Juliet
"I think she had other stuff she was working on today," Andrea says as she pulls a case of eggs from the fridge.
Victoria wasn't here when I arrived this morning, and I didn't know whether she was just busy or if she had enough faith in me as a new employee to finally take a day off.
"I might've ruined this," I say, frowning down at the bowl of pancake mix.
I lift the spoon, the mix running off it like water.
"Not ruined," Andrea assures me with a chuckle. "Just add a little more mix to it to thicken it up."
"Cooking has never been a strong suit for me," I mutter, hating that I'm struggling to get something so simple correct.
"There's a lot of wiggle room in the kitchen," she says, her voice calming. "Pretty hard to mess this sort of thing up. We'll just have some leftovers, and I don't think Dean will complain. The boy loves pancakes. Make sure to add in a little vanilla. That takes the box mix stuff to another level."
"Never would've even thought of that," I say, mixing in the extra powdered pancake mix before heading to the spice cabinet.
"Thanks again for helping," Andrea says as she cracks eggs into a glass bowl like a professional. "I can't believe I was speeding this morning. I'm usually very attentive to traffic laws."
"How much?" I ask, holding up the bottle of vanilla.
Andrea leans over, looking into the bowl. "About two teaspoons should work."
I measure out the vanilla, recapping the bottle, then stir the mixture again.
"Did you get a ticket?" I ask.
I also obey all traffic laws. I don't know what would happen if I got stopped by a cop with a fake identity. I'd probably end up in jail and would sit there forever if I refused to provide my real identity. That would throw a huge kink in my mission of not being on any government documentation.
"I got a warning and a phone number," she says, her eyes locked on the eggs she's working with. I watch as a crimson blush travels up her neck and into her cheeks.
"Really?" I ask with a laugh. "Was he good-looking?"
The blush grows deeper, but she shrugs. "He wasn't ugly."
"Do you plan on calling him?"
She tosses an eggshell into the bowl she's using for trash and looks over at me.
"Probably not," she says, looking a little sad.
I don't say anything. I'm not going to try to encourage her to call him if that's something she has already decided she doesn't want to do.
"Law enforcement has one of the highest rates of domestic assault," she says as she heads to the sink to wash her hands. "I just don't think it's a good idea."
"Understandable," I say.
"I wonder if Cerberus would do a background check on him," she says, reaching for a dish towel.
"They might," I offer. "But it's likely he doesn't have a record. He wouldn't be able to be a cop if he did."