Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 79020 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79020 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
"I'm not meant to be the one to take that piece of shit down," I remind him.
Jericho grunts in agreement, but I know deep down he's a team player and wouldn't begrudge any of us the opportunity to make it happen.
"That's Jericho's demon to slay."
"I don't think I need to explain to you how easily someone could recognize him and give Nathan another opportunity to get away," Ace says, pointing at Jericho. "He understands that."
I want to argue for the man and tell Ace to stop speaking as if he isn't standing right there, but I know it won't get me very far. The decision has been made. I have no doubt it'll be less than a week and I'll be sitting at another fucking bar in North Carolina, once again wondering why I even made the move from New Mexico, to begin with.
"I understand," Jericho says. "I don't regret the decisions I made that keep me from being on the direct team to take that motherfucker down. I'm not so cocky that I can't let that be someone else's bust. I know people are getting hurt every day that he isn't in custody."
"Where in North Carolina?"
"Wilmington," Ace says, making me want to flip fucking tables and trash the room.
"That's over five hours away," I snap.
"Closer to seven," Jericho helpfully supplies.
"We have a small apartment already set up over there," Ace says. "The doctor said you should take it easy for a week or so, but then you're good to go back to work."
"I thought we were clearing the area around home base?" I argue.
"While simultaneously clearing the list," Ace counters.
"If eight of the eleven have all been possible acquisitions, then why would it be such a bad idea for Jericho to go?"
Jericho stands a little taller, ready to take on the task.
Ace shakes his head, pulling in a deep breath. "You're the best fit for the job."
My lip twitches in aggravation, but I don't say another fucking word. I've already said more in this one conversation than I have since I moved to fucking Tennessee.
I hate the idea of Zara out in the world alone. Nathan had eyes on The Lost Kitten at one point, and it's possible that the man who stabbed me was somehow linked to him. That means the man saw Zara, and she could easily become a target. It wouldn't be unheard of for Nathan Adair to have recognized me as a member of Cerberus from New Mexico, because he was well aware of who was protecting his stepdaughter Brielle. He said as much in conversations with her that she later recalled to Newton.
My skin crawls as I think about how vulnerable she is, and even as I climb the stairs to my room, I can't help but feel like the woman is in immediate danger, and if I follow my line of thinking back to Adair, then it wasn't me who put her in danger. It was Wilkinson for offering her a job there in the first place. If the man wasn't already in jail, I'd beat his face in until he was unrecognizable.
Chapter 32
Zara
There's a huge difference between committing to a decision and being happy with the decision being made.
I don't even like it here in East Tennessee. There's too much traffic, too many people. I can't even make a quick trip to the grocery store without getting frustrated by being stuck in traffic, but I also don't feel this overwhelming delight in knowing tomorrow I'll have put this place and all of its problems literally in my rearview mirror as I drive out of town.
I wasn't worried about the mountain roads until he mentioned being safe on them, and since then, all I could picture was me taking a curve too sharply and ending up tumbling down the mountain inside my car.
It's my last night in this house, and although I know I can't stay, I seem to be searching for reasons as to why I should, and even when I come up completely empty, totally void of any pros of staying here, I still feel an overabundance of sadness with the idea of leaving.
I know it has everything to do with him, and I hate myself more than a little because of it. A couple of rolls in the hay, some intense orgasms, and the less than handful of smiles I was able to pull from him shouldn't have me thinking of upending my entire life. I should have seen what was right in front of my face, knowing it was enough to make any sane person run right down this mountain and not stop until I met the mountains on the other side of the United States.
I towel dry my head, hating that I was so thorough in clearing out the bathroom cabinet that I already packed my blow-dryer. I dry it as best I can before hanging the towel on the rack, wondering if it will be fully dry by the time I've told myself I'll leave in the morning. I know I'm just looking for one more reason to stick around a little longer, the idea that he may come back one more time on replay in my head.