Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 114793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Marcus’s eyes narrowed.
“He’s not the kind of guy you want on your back,” Webb continued, turning back to me. “And guess what, now you are because he put a private search out on you—Gabriella Voss, real name and all.”
My stomach sank. I had hidden my real name as much as possible, even hiring someone to cover it up when I began this job, just in case someone got angry about me uncovering their dirty secrets and them being a dirty birdy. The fact that my real identity had resurfaced—and that Maddox might have discovered it too—fuck my life.
“Wonderful,” I mumbled. “So, I’m sunburned, dehydrated, and apparently being hunted by a man who owns half the state.”
Webb’s jaw clenched. “You should’ve told someone sooner.”
“I was going to,” I snapped. “After I got to the middle-of-nowhere ranch and was maybe rehydrated enough to string two sentences together.”
“Instead, you gave us the discount version about debt collectors.”
“Would you have believed me if I led with cement corpse?”
Marcus held up a hand. “She has a point.”
Webb muttered something that sounded a lot like "unbelievable," but I saw the way his eyes scanned me again—like he was reevaluating something, shifting from irritated to a protective wolf on high alert.
I looked at both of them, then sighed. “Well, aren’t you both glad I came?”
Marcus ran a hand over his face and sighed, “Thrilled.”
Webb crossed his arms and looked at me like I’d already caused him a migraine that would last until Christmas.
“Your crapped-out Camry’s being picked up,” he said. “I'm having the guys bring it here so we can stash it somewhere out of sight.”
“Wow, thanks. I guess that explains why the search party I imagined never came.”
He rolled his eyes but didn’t deny it.
I took another sip of my now-slightly-less-cooling water. “I sent three copies of the files. They're encrypted and stored on different servers. All of them were sent to people I trust—two for sure and one who’s so paranoid he lives off-grid and doesn’t believe that birds are real.
Webb stared at me. “Bird guy?”
“He’s shockingly good with computers.”
Webb exhaled and muttered, “Okay, so the files are safe.” Then, with all the subtlety of someone declaring war on his weekend plans, he added, “So now I’m going to hide you.”
Before I could respond, he and Marcus were already deep in the plans.
“No good keeping her at the ranch,” Marcus mused, scratching his jaw. “They’ll trace her here. Especially if they’ve figured out the family connection.”
“They will,” Webb agreed. “They’ve got the resources. They’ll know Sasha’s family tree by now, so this place’ll be watched.”
Marcus grunted. “Cabo?”
Webb snorted. “Sure, let’s fly her straight into a tourist trap with her own passport. Brilliant idea, dipshit.”
“I was being theoretical.” Marcus sounded insulted at the possibility his mind wasn't the devious wonderland he thought it was.
“Alaska?” Webb tossed out.
“Yeah, okay. She’ll blend right in with the bears.”
I sat there, blinking between them, and slowly raised a hand like a student in a very unhinged classroom.
Marcus snapped his fingers. “Adrienne’s family still has that place in Italy—”
“—which she’d need her passport for,” Webb cut in. “Unless we want her arrested at the airport under a fake identity, and then we’re really up shit creek.”
“Ugh, right,” Marcus agreed, dragging a hand through his hair.
Meanwhile, I perked up. “Wait, Italy? I could go to Italy. I could absolutely lay low in Tuscany with a glass of wine and maybe some mozzarella therapy. Do you know what that would do for my stress levels?”
Both of them ignored me.
Webb groaned like someone had just kicked over his last brain cell. “Fine, I’ll take her to the cabin.”
Marcus immediately burst out laughing—that rare, wheezy, can’t-catch-his-breath kind of laugh that sounded like an asthmatic donkey after a sprint. His whole face scrunched up, eyes nearly disappearing behind tears as his shoulders shook with the effort of it. He gasped between fits, trying to speak, but all that came out were snorts and another round of breathless, braying laughter that made it impossible not to smile, even if I wasn’t entirely sure what was so damn funny.
“No one would find her there,” he eventually gasped. “Hell, I’m not even sure I could find it again without GPS and a bloodhound.”
Webb was already rubbing his temples. “Exactly.”
I sat up from my slouch. “Wait, an actual cabin?”
They both turned to look at me.
I straightened, a little hopeful, despite the low-grade terror still buzzing in my chest. “Okay, that sounds perfect. Cozy, rustic, maybe with a cute fireplace? A little deck where I can read and recover from the literal skin melting off my body? Maybe there’s a jacuzzi?” Admittedly, sitting in a hot jacuzzi right now sounded like torture, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t be nice later.
Marcus actually choked, and Webb didn’t even crack a smile. “There isn’t a jacuzzi, but there’s a pretty body of water.”