Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 28825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
I stand beside the SUV as he unpacks the camping gear and sets up the tent, if you could even call it that. It looks big enough for one person, and the blanket he mentioned is even smaller. I did bring a jacket, so I guess I’ll be sleeping in it tonight, trying not to freeze my ass off. It’s warm in Kansas City, but at this altitude in the Colorado mountains, it’s going to get cold tonight.
I agreed with Scribe it’s best to stay off the map as much as possible. He even had me pull my phone apart so we couldn’t be tracked. He did the same with his own and opened a burner. No one should know we’re here.
We got here just before dark and made camp. We’re about an hour from where the Five Aces are having their party, if you take the windy road down the mountain, but I’ve got a clear shot of what’s going down from where we are.
Scribe found the best site possible for us to set up, only we can’t have a fire. We don’t want to attract any attention, so we’re going black for the night. The sun slowly slips behind the mountain, taking the light with it. At dawn I’ll get in the spot I’ve got picked out while Scribe gets closer and tells me what I need to know. He’ll be my ears on the ground, and I’ve got to trust him. The only thing I’m not trusting right now is my body. I’m starting to feel like it’s not mine. It’s also not helping that every time I try to cut him down he just smiles and keeps on flirting with me. Which I equally hate and love. Hate it because each time he tries again, I fall a little more for him. And I love that he isn’t giving up. Almost like he’s fighting for me, even if I don’t want him to. He’s trying to get close to me.
With most men, when you cut them down and give them a no, they either walk away or turn into an utter ass, further proving my point about why I said no to begin with. Not him though. He just goes at it again, and usually with a smile on his face. Until I’d made that dog comment. That one seemed to hit deep for him.
“We may be here a couple of nights,” Scribe says, pulling my attention away from his ass.
He’s got on loose jeans that hang low on his hips, and his tight T-shirt has ridden up on one side. It exposes the tattoos at his waist and the dip on his hipbone that leads to what I can only assume is a child’s size bat in his pants. I knew when my knee made contact that there was a lot going on down there. It would be a shame for ovaries everywhere to deny that man his baby-making duty to the world, but I can’t help but smile at the memory. I quickly wipe it away. I don’t ogle men. Haven’t in forever. Not since… I push that memory away. That’s the second time in 24 hours I’ve thought about that night.
Oddly it wasn't the killing that sat with me for so long, it was the fact that you’re not always safe when you think you are. I’m small, and I learned it’s easy for me to be overpowered by a man. I’ve learned to keep most at a distance. But right now all I can think about is having him against me.
“I love camping,” I say, shrugging. What am I supposed to say? Oh no, please don’t press your sex-god body against me and dry hump me into oblivion while I pretend to sleep. Instead I just lean back against the SUV and wait, trying to play it cool. I seem to be getting really good at it when it comes to him.
We stopped for supplies a few towns back, just to be sure we didn’t run into anyone we know. I got the essentials—water, food, chocolate—while Scribe loaded up with Slim Jims and Doritos. I don’t know where all that junk goes, but it goes to all the right places.
I watch him move as he walks around camp, trying to set it up. I should probably help, but why give up the view? If I’m going to take up this whole ogling thing, I might as well do it right and not miss a moment. Finally, he sits down and starts working on his laptop. I’m oddly jealous of the attention he’s giving it.
After a while, he closes it and says, “Okay, that’s all I can do for tonight.”
He had two laptops out checking, switching back and forth to see if we’d been tracked, and then getting a trace on Cobra’s cell phone. The reception out here is spotty, but Scribe is the best from what Cas says, and he pinpointed their location. Now he can keep track of it on his burner phone and we’ll know if the Five Aces are on the move.