Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74971 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74971 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
“We have to go, baby,” I told Murphy when she resisted as I pulled. “We can’t be here when the cops get here.”
There was pain in her eyes as she looked at me, but she nodded, and let me lead her out.
“Rook says we have thirty minutes to clear out of here before the cops show,” Riff said as we made it back to the cars.
“Oh!” Murphy said, a strange, high-pitched voice that had me tensing. “Oh, hey, buddies!” she said as her gaze fell on the Bloodhounds.
Then, her brows pinched, she looked at me, then over at the guys with us. Still masked.
It was easy to spot Crow, though, with his long hair peeking out of the bottom of his mask.
So her gaze held on Cohen.
“Is it you?” she asked, voice half hope, half fear.
“It’s me,” he confirmed. “I didn’t betray you,” he added, voice solemn, like his life depended on her understanding that fact.
“I know you didn’t,” she agreed, reaching out to grab his arm tightly for a second before we were all getting into the cars, and peeling the fuck out of there.
We all kept our masks on until we were quite a bit down the road Rook told us to take, going out the opposite road the cops were going to take in to get the women.
“Cohen,” Murphy said, twisting to look over into the backseat where he was situated with one of the dogs, the other two stretched out in the trunk.
“I’m alright,” he assured her, reading the worry in her voice. “Been worse,” he added.
“I’m so sorry.”
“How in fuck’s name is this your fault?” he shot back. “You’re to blame when some fuckhead is obsessed with you? I don’t think so.”
“But I know… I know you were, you know, in retirement from… all of this,” she said, waving out.
“And I can go right back into retirement,” he agreed. “The question is… are you okay?”
“Thanks to Morgaine, mostly,” she said, a ghost of a smile playing at her lips. “Is there a gift to get someone that says, ‘Hey, thanks for the necklace with the magic poison pill that I shoved into the throat of a trafficker so I could get away’?”
“I think knowing it was used for that much good is gift enough to Morgaine,” I said, reaching over to squeeze her knee. “But we were coming,” I added, trying to subtly remind her that she wasn’t alone anymore, that she didn’t always have to save herself.
“I knew you were, but that place doesn’t seem easy to find.”
“It wasn’t,” I agreed. “Thank fuck for Rook,” I added, wishing there was more we could do for the guy who was needing to do everything he could by the book to avoid the intense scrutiny of Nancy Bird, who had just recently informed him that he couldn’t cut his hair for three months because she didn’t trust just the urine or blood tests. She wanted hair. Which meant the poor bastard couldn’t even enjoy a drink for three months.
I guess I could get him some state-of-the-art computer shit to set up at Nyx’s place while he ‘worked’ there. Stash some money away for him to use little by little now, or to get himself or his mom some shit down the road.
I owed him that.
“I could, like, buy him a house or something someday, couldn’t I?” Murphy asked, reminding me that while I made really good money, she was fucking rolling in it.
“Some day,” I agreed. “When he’s really free,” I added.
“And those women,” she said, chest falling as she exhaled hard. “Would Rook be able to figure out who they are? And maybe get anonymous funds sent to them to help them rebuild their lives and get help they will need?”
“I’m sure he can,” said, giving her leg another squeeze. “We will mention it the next time we are in touch with him. The information should be in a police system somewhere by then. But, tonight, how about we worry about you, okay?”
“I’m alright,” she assured me. “Especially knowing he is dead this time. It’s over. No more running. No more looking over my shoulder. No more safe houses in the middle of the frigid winter. Things can go back to normal.”
What did normal look like for her now, though?
My heart felt constricted at the idea that now that it was all done, she’d pack up her dogs, and head out of town. Never to be seen again.
Leaving me to, what?
Go back to my old version of normal?
Fucking every girl I could get my hands on?
No.
In fact, fuck no.
The idea of that suddenly felt so hollow that even if she did leave, even if she didn’t want me, I couldn’t see myself going back to that ever again.
“Are we going home now?” Murphy asked.
And with that one sweet little sentence, all my worries faded away.