Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
“Stop,” Vargas whispers in my ear. His arm wraps around my waist to pull me back and against him. Before I can ask, he puts his fingers to his mouth then points toward my door.
It’s open. Barely, but you can see someone pried it open. The second everything connects, all I can think about is Sassy. I try to bolt toward my door. Vargas doesn’t even let me make it half a foot before he’s stopping me.
“I’ll check on her. Stay here,” he orders. There’s a serious tone to his voice. I nod in agreement, my heart pounding away.
It feels like an eternity has passed once Vargas slips through my door and out of my line of sight. When the door opens again, relief fills me. He’s got Sassy in his arms.
“Oh God.” I rush over to take her.
“She was under the bed.”
I smother her in kisses.
“You need to pack a bag. You’re not staying here tonight. I’ll see about getting the door fixed.”
“Crap,” I mutter. “My dad is going to lose it.” I enter my apartment. Everything is where I left it. “Did they do anything?”
“They broke the door.”
“I know that.” I don’t know if it’s a weird mix of adrenaline or what, but I laugh. “I meant I don’t think they did anything in here.” I head toward my bedroom. “Do you?”
“Not sure.” Vargas has gone from asking a question to avoid answering one to giving equivocal answers.
“Okay, I’ll stay at a hotel tonight or until we get the door fixed.” I’m not going to my dad’s. I hold Sassy closer. I’m guessing Vargas is going to have to have another little talk with Garfield to keep this under wraps.
“You’re not going to a hotel. We don’t know who it was or why someone broke in here yet.”
“But you think you might have an idea?”
“I could gather up a few ideas. Ethan being one.”
“He doesn’t know where I live. We only met at the coffee shop.”
“Doesn’t mean he couldn't follow you.”
I close my eyes. How had I not thought of that? It should have been the first thing that popped into my mind.
“It’s going to be okay.” Vargas’s hands come to my cheeks, making my eyes flutter back open. “I won’t let anyone touch a hair on your head.”
“It’s not going to be okay. He’s going to make me move home. Once my dad finds out about the dating app and the door, it’s over for me.” Sassy wiggles between us.
“You really think he would make you move home? You’re an adult.”
“Yes.” I place Sassy on the bed. “He's been super protective since the accident.”
“Accident?”
It’s not something I talk about. My dad gets uneasy when I bring it up, so I stopped. “When I was ten.” I push my hair back to show a cut.
“What happened?” Vargas reaches out to touch the scar that I keep hidden with my hair.
“They said it was a car accident.”
“You don’t remember?”
I shake my head. “I don’t remember anything before it.” His hand drops. “Nothing. They said my memories might come back, but it’s been over a decade and nothin’.”
“Pack a bag. You’ll stay with me. For now, your father doesn’t need to know.”
“Really?” I don’t know why I ask because I know he means it.
“I want to make a few calls. Get whatever you and Sassy need.”
I fight to hide my excitement. My apartment was broken into. I should be freaking out, but all I can really freak out about is that I’m staying over at a boy’s house for the first time.
“Pack,” Vargas orders.
Scratch that. Not a boy… a man.
9
VARGAS
“This will be your room.” I show her into the bedroom adjoining mine, its windows thrown open to let in the light.
After I called ahead, Mrs. Palacios was more than happy to prepare a room, going so far as to say it was “about time” I had someone stay. She’s been part of my household for as long as I can remember, and she’s equally as nosy.
“This is bigger than my entire apartment.” Cadence looks around, her eyes wide. “It’s so nice.”
“It’s yours. Make yourself comfortable. Closet there”—I point—“en suite through those doors.”
“Okay.” She walks in a few steps, her eyes darting to the bed. “Where’s, um, your room?”
“I’m right next door. Nothing to worry about.” I don’t want her afraid, not of me or anyone in this house. It’s not a matter of calculation on my part, though that’s where my head should be at; it’s more that I want her to be comfortable … to feel safe with me.
“You really didn’t have to do this. It’s so nice of you. You’re … You’re nothing like my father said.” She turns to me, her gaze warm and somehow hopeful.
“Anything you need you have to only ask.” I don’t want to tell her that I’m certain every word her father said about me is true. I have a reputation, and my hands are far from clean. My family made its name through violence, coercion, and dirty dealings. I’m no different, but I am trying to build something better, something real. I think her father understands that on some level; otherwise, he wouldn’t be dealing with me at all.