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 apartment?"
"Yes," I answer. "We have backup."
I point to the other SUV, but she doesn't pull her eyes off mine.
"I'm going to get out and come around to your side," I say, waiting for her to nod before I move.
I keep my eyes working over the parking area and the front line of the apartments until I reach her door. I don't rush. I don't run and act hastily. I don't want to add to her fear, and I know my teammates have my back.
I open her door, waiting for her to unclick her seatbelt and grab her purse before offering her my hand. She takes it, using it to climb out, but releases it immediately once her feet are on the ground.
"My car," she whispers.
"They'll bring it here," I assure her. "Don't worry about it."
As if she's regaining some of her senses, I walk beside her, noticing the way her head shifts back and forth. I don't know whether she's actually paying attention or if it's just muscle memory to look all around.
"Same as last night," I tell her. "Give me the keys and stay behind me."
She nods, slowly pulling her keys from her purse. She offers them to me, but looks up at me before she releases them into my hands.
"What is it?"
She shakes her head.
"Juliet," I say, ready to tell her that not telling me everything could compromise her safety, but unsure how it would land.
"If…" she begins, but pauses for a long moment. "If he's inside..."
"If he's inside, he'll never bother you again," I assure her.
She swallows with a slight dip of her head as she drops the keys into my hand.
I unlock the door, hoping I find him lurking inside somewhere. I wait, like I did last night, until we're inside and she flips the deadbolt back into place.
I make my way through the tiny apartment, more than a little disappointed to find it free of intruders.
I know she may think that she wants Graham dead. She may actually want it with all her being, but being in the same room or direct vicinity of death is hard on a lot of people. I don't know that it would help her at all, and if it did, it would take a long time before she actually became okay with it happening.
"All clear," I tell her as I walk back into the living room.
Her eyes are locked on the go-bag near the front door, and as much as I want to tell her it's not a good idea, I don't know that those words would be meant for her or for me.
I walk to the kitchen and get a small glass from the cabinet. They're just as bare as the rest of the apartment. I fill it with water and take it to her.
"It'll help calm your nerves," I tell her, offering her the glass. She simply shakes her head before walking around me and taking a few steps deeper into the apartment.
She looks around as if seeing it for the very first time and feeling a little disappointed by what she sees.
I place the glass on the counter and walk back toward her, unsure of what to say that would make this situation less stressful for her. I'm not a talker. I never try to console people. I kill their monsters and keep on living my life. That isn't an option right now, but I don't open my mouth because saying the wrong fucking thing right now could send her running for the hills.
"I'm so sorry you're having to spend so much time with me," she says as she turns around to face me.
The apology seems rehearsed, as if she has spent a lifetime trying to be small, to take up as little space as possible and go unnoticed.
I don't know if it's from the way she's been living her life since the attack or from something left over from her relationship with Whitmore.
I hate the words, hate the way her shoulders droop as she looks up at me.
"It's not a bother," I assure her, taking a few steps closer when she drops her eyes from mine.
I want to tell her everything. I want her to know that Whitmore is in the wind, that we have no idea where he is, but by the way she was looking at the fucking bag when I came back into the room, I know what her reaction would be. We can't keep her safe if she runs, and if she knew what I know, she'd be gone in the blink of an eye.
I take another step closer, pulling her eyes up. They lock on my lips, and it's not the first time I've caught her looking at them.
"We'll keep you safe," I vow, speaking the words slowly so she keeps her eyes on my mouth.