Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 116535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Her eyes widened when his big hand snapped around her throat. She resisted the reflexive urge to claw at it. Instead, she jabbed her thumbs into his eyes hard.
He released her with an animal cry, shoving her with such force she fell to the floor.
Her heart pounding, she scrambled to stand, wheezing just a little. She’d no sooner got to her feet than he charged with a bear-like roar. She sidestepped him fast, skirted around the armchair, and rushed to the sofa. Her back to the latter, she grabbed its base and flipped it backwards. Twisting, she spotted the gun and quickly snatched it.
His eyes briefly flashed bear as they darted to the gun now aimed at him. “Gonna shoot me, huh?” His skin rippled in a telling move that he was about to shift.
Fuck this. She fired, putting a bullet right between his eyes. His body swayed for the briefest moment and then dropped to the floor like a sack of spuds.
Panting, Aspen stood upright. She didn’t need to check if he was definitely dead. Her enhanced hearing detected no heartbeat. She dropped the gun, and it clattered to the floor.
She needed to get out of there. Needed to breathe air that wasn’t thick with the scents of blood and anger. Needed her mate, who she knew had to be close.
Aspen rushed to the door, yanked it open, and crashed into a hard chest.
“It isn’t suspicious that Grant isn’t at home,” Camden said to Vinnie, who’d just gotten off the phone with one of his enforcers. “He could have gone anywhere. The grocery store. The Tavern. For a walk. Anything.”
“I know, I just don’t like that we can’t question him,” said Vinnie.
Neither did Camden, but Grant wasn’t his main concern right then. He wanted to get back to his mate. She was still all worked up. Every primitive instinct he had urged him to be at her side. Damn fucking Julius for turning up now.
Sitting at his kitchen table, Vinnie rubbed at his forehead. “The more I think about it, the more I’d have to agree that your uncle likely fed us a bunch of bullshit—his way of paying us back for tying him up. But I want to hear Grant proclaim his innocence. I want to be looking right in his eyes when he says it; I want to be sure I’m right.”
“Which is why—” Camden cut off as his phone began to ring. He dug his cell out of his pocket, and his body went still when he saw Tate’s name flashing on the screen. Camden quickly answered, “You got Wayland?”
“No.” Tate sighed. “We’ve searched all around. There’s no sign of him anywhere. We haven’t entered the cabin because we figure it’s probably wired to blow. There are no sounds coming from within it, so I doubt he’s inside anyway. But if he is, he hasn’t tried to shoot at us through the windows. I’ve had Farrell do several flies around the area. He hasn’t spotted Wayland. I’m wondering if he’s even here.”
Camden frowned. “Why else would he leave that trail? He drew you all out there on purpose, so he must …” And then it hit Camden so hard he was surprised it didn’t hurt. “It wasn’t a trap. It was a distraction. A way to divide us. He must have figured—” Camden’s lungs seemed to shut down for a moment as a barrage of things hit him via the mating bond. Anger. Battle adrenaline. Urgency. Determination.
For long seconds, he couldn’t move, too dazed by the weight and abruptness of it all. Tate’s words no longer made sense. Camden couldn’t process them. Then realization slammed into him, and his tiger went absolutely ape-shit.
“Fuck.” Camden sped through the apartment, ending the call without warning. Conscious of Vinnie and Joaquin on his heels, Camden tried calling Aspen as he dashed down the stairs to the shop floor. She didn’t answer.
His heart sank. She wasn’t dead, but she was definitely fighting someone. And that “someone” could only be Wayland.
His gut in knots, Camden hurried through the store, weaving his way through the cluster of customers; almost knocking over a full-length mirror. He spat a curse when someone stepped through the front door, inadvertently blocking his path.
He growled. “Move, move, move!”
Wide-eyed, the woman backed outside with a bird-like squawk of alarm and stepped out of his way.
He tried calling Aspen again as he ran across the busy street. He had to skid to a halt when a car almost collided into him. Fuck. A second car almost did the same. He ignored the beeping horns and kept moving.
His panicked tiger urging him to hurry, Camden sprinted toward his building. He was slowed by the many pedestrians walking along the path. They tried scrambling out of his way, but not fast enough for his liking. He almost knocked over a toddler and also had to sidestep an elderly woman who tried berating him for “charging like an animal.”