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)
She chews the bottom right corner of her lip before speaking.
"The men outside," she says.
"I know they look intimidating. For some women, that's scary. For other women, knowing they're out there is the first time they've slept through the night in a very long time."
"They're out there twenty-four-seven?"
"Yes," I answer.
"Why?"
"The type of men who hurt women usually don't come looking when they know those men are the ones they'll have to face to gain access to those of us inside," I explain. "You're in control of your life here. No one enters your space without permission. Not staff. Not visitors. You decide who gets access to you now."
She looks down at the key in her hand once more, a soft smile forming on her face.
"Finally," she whispers.
Chapter 15
Nyx
“You’re early,” Mischief says as I walk toward him.
The sun hasn’t even crested over the horizon, but I couldn’t sleep.
“Didn’t take you as the type of guy who would complain about getting off shift a little early,” I mutter.
His eyes narrow, stance fully locked in, showing no sign of moving.
“I don’t know how to take that, Nyx,” he says. “Are you saying I’m lazy?”
I blink at the guy. “No.”
He chuckles, pulling up his hand as if he's going to smack me on the shoulder, but something on my face tells him that probably isn't the best idea, so he drops his hand.
"I can relieve Recon instead."
Mischief lifts his hand, indicating that Recon has heard me and is saying something.
"He said he has an appointment this morning and there's no sense in going home only to head right back out," Mischief relays. "I'll head home early."
"Anything to note?" I ask, stepping into his spot when he steps back.
I pull out my earpiece and pop it into my ear.
"Quiet night," he says. "Thanks, man."
I watch as my teammate walks off, climbing into one of the SUVs and driving away.
"Get outta here."
"What's that?" I ask, alarm swelling inside me at the sound of Recon's voice.
"That damn chipmunk is back," Recon growls, snapping another command at the creature. "I swear the thing is going to attack me. I may have to shoot it."
"You will not discharge your weapon against a fucking chipmunk," I growl.
"The little fucker is staring at me like I owe back child support or something."
"Get control of yourself," I command. "Keep the comms clear."
I spend the next hour watching the front yard as the sun rises and listening to Recon try to negotiate with a fucking rodent. When Holler shows up, I feel a sense of relief. I've worked with him before, and other than wanting to trade places when they have outside groups, he's a pretty solid guy.
"Get here early?" he asks as he walks up, putting his earpiece in his ear just in time to catch Recon bitching about the chipmunk. He points to his ear. "What's he going on about?"
"A fucking chipmunk," I mutter.
Holler reaches into his pocket and pulls out a bag of peanuts still in the shell. "He's a cute little guy. I brought more today because he ate all I had the other day. It’s so fun to watch him open the shells to get the nut out."
A smile threatens to appear on my face.
"You've been feeding it?" Recon snaps through the mic. "No wonder the damn thing has been staring at me for hours and trying to run up my leg."
Holler chuckles, dipping his head at me before walking around the far corner of the house.
Recon leaves, glaring at me for a long second before getting into his SUV and driving away. I knew I wanted to be here when Juliet arrived, but I'll be damned if having to deal with the squawking about a wild animal didn't have me doubting myself.
Half an hour before her shift begins, I see Juliet's car pull up. Just like every other time she has arrived when I have been here, she looks all around her while still inside her vehicle.
It's prey behavior, the same way a mouse will stick its nose out of a hole and dart back out of fear, even feeling the wind on its face.
It seems more than simple diligence, and her still behaving this way makes me wonder whether this is how she has always been since running away from her hometown or if something more recent has activated these behaviors.
Trauma and fear stick to a person long after they're safe, but maybe she has never considered herself safe. As much as I hate it, with what I know about Graham Whitmore's behavior since his incarceration, the vigilance is needed. Until that bastard is either six feet under the ground or rotting in some drainage pipe, she may never be truly safe. Even then, there's no telling what his family might do to avenge him.
I make a mental note to ask Max to dig a little deeper into his family and try to get a read on what they seem willing to do to help Graham. I know they put up money for his defense, but did they visit him in jail often? Did he go right back to work for them after his release? Has he been shoved to a dark corner in shame? Is he right back in the spotlight?