Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 116662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
When the crowd finally thinned out, Isaiah asked her, “What would you like to do with the rest of our day? I feel like we should celebrate your win somehow.”
She gave an easy shrug. “I don’t mind what we do.”
“We’re all planning to go bowling,” Havana cut in. “You two should come.”
Uncomfortable with going too far from the pride when there was a target on Isaiah’s back, Quinley let out an uneasy hum. “I’d rather stay local,” she said, to which her mate nodded.
Aspen frowned, her shoulders drooping in disappointment. “Ah, come on, there’ll be a huge group of us. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Bailey spoke, “Earthquakes. Falling meteorites. Nuclear explosions. The death and destruction of all we hold dear.”
Impatience flickering across her face, Aspen sighed. “Ignore her, Quinley. It will make your life so much easier.”
“I resent that,” said Bailey with a huff.
Aspen gave Quinley a tight smile. “As I said, ignore her.”
Bailey grabbed the bearcat’s index finger and started prodding Aspen’s temple with it. “Stop poking yourself, stop poking yourself, stop poking yourself, stop poking—ow, bitch, that was my nipple!”
“I don’t care!” Aspen blasted.
Bailey smirked. “Thought you were ignoring me.”
That was when the bearcat all but flew at her.
Havana swore. “Aspen, let go of her throat now!”
As Deke and the Alpha female worked to pry the females apart, Isaiah looked down at Quinley and said, “I say we skip bowling.”
She pursed her lips. “We could go play pool at the Tavern?”
His brows lifting slightly, Isaiah nodded. “That works.” His gaze darted to her empty plate and then down to her belly. “Need to vomit first?”
She felt her brows draw together in honest confusion. “Huh?”
Smiling, he gave a shake of his head. “Never mind. Let’s go.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The chiming of her cell phone snapped Quinley out of her reverie. She’d been staring out of the kitchen window unseeing, caught up in thoughts as to what Isaiah had in store for tonight.
He’d earlier made a passing teasing comment designed to keep her on sexual edge, the shit. And she couldn’t pester him for answers because they had visitors in the form of Tate, Luke, Camden, and Deke—all of whom were chilling with Isaiah in the living area, drinking beers and discussing pride issues that needed addressing before the New Year’s Eve party tomorrow.
She retrieved her phone from the kitchen island. Raya. Smiling, Quinley answered, “Hello?”
“Be smart and alert no one,” a male voice said. A voice that was gruff and cold and unfamiliar. “Believe me when I say that the life of your sister depends on it.”
Dread curdled in Quinley’s belly and caused every muscle in her cat’s body to seize up. “Who is this?”
“I think you know.”
It could only be one of the Vercetti Pack, couldn’t it? Fuck, fuck, fuck. Terror snaked around her throat, its hold tight.
She wanted to go to Isaiah, but she didn’t trust that—unaware of the danger to Raya—he wouldn’t simply snatch the phone once he picked up on Quinley’s distress.
She swallowed. “You’re one of the Vercetti brothers?”
“We can get the introductions out of the way when we meet. And you’re going to want to meet with me if you want your sister and her mate to live.”
Her gut rolled. Raya and Lori? “How do I know you really have them? Maybe you just stole Raya’s phone or cloned it.” After all, it wouldn’t have been easy to capture two black-foots.
A choked female scream sounded in the background and made her cat flinch.
Oh, God.
“Still think I might be bluffing?” he taunted.
Maybe not, but she had to consider that … “All I heard was a scream. That could have been anyone.”
There was a rustle, and then her caller spoke to someone in the background: “Say hello to your sister.”
“Fuck you, asshole,” was hissed in response.
Quinley’s eyes fell shut. Her cat let out a low, drawn-out yowl of distress. That was definitely Raya.
“Good enough?” he asked.
Her pulse speeding up, Quinley opened her eyes. “Yes.”
“What do you say to a trade-off? You for them?” It wasn’t really a suggestion. It was a demand.
It also took her by surprise. Quinley had thought they’d ask for her and Isaiah in exchange. Then again … that wasn’t really the pack’s style, was it? They took women and children, not men. And never dominants.
“I won’t tell you that you’ll walk out of this alive,” her caller continued. “That would be a lie. Hale killed someone important to us. Now we’ll end the life of someone important to him … Or we’ll end that of these two bitches here.”
Right then, Isaiah rounded the corner of the living room and stalked into the kitchen, his brow furrowed. He’d sensed a flash of her anxiety, she thought.
Quinley slammed up a hand and shook her head, warning him with a wide-eyed gaze to do nothing. She put a finger to her lips, and he stealthily made his way forward.