Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 176012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 176012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
He’s been watching my family for a long time without incident, it seems. Should I be more scared?
What’s Deacon’s goal? It’s not me.
It wasn’t Hawke and Aro or Dylan and Hunter, either.
In fact, my family members didn’t sound like they’ve ever seen him or his brother. Have they talked to either of them? Have they questioned where these men live, work, or what their endgame is? It’s been going on for years, and that’s an incredible amount of patience for nothing. There has to be a reason.
He said Manas was in New Orleans? Is that their permanent residence now? I need to make a list of things to find out when—if—I talk to him again.
My cell vibrates in my hand, and I look down, seeing a text from Hailey.
Here.
Shit. I dart back out of the hideout, concerned for her as much as me. She’s sitting in her car in the alleyway alone. It’s one thing to make guesses about my own safety, but the people who work for me?
I need to get rid of Deacon and Manas—whoever they are.
Leaving the mirror, I close it back up and scan the street for anything suspicious before I dive into the kitchen. Juliet needs snacks for the staff in the morning, and I offered to run any leftovers to her. I needed time to sort through everything and close up, so Hailey ran home, showered, and ate dinner.
Grabbing the bags with the boxes of pastries, I shut off the light with my elbow and push through the door, handing her the food.
She smiles, taking everything.
“Thank you,” I chirp before spinning back around and locking the door.
I hear her start the engine to her Toyota RAV4, and I throw a quick glance up, worried I’ll see Deacon peering down from the roof. I exhale, comforted that I don’t have to be back till morning.
Holding up both hands, I catch her keys like a basketball and walk to the driver’s side, while she hops into the passenger seat.
I don’t drive much, but I do when necessary. Like when I don’t want to make my younger employee cart me around, even though I have to mooch off her car.
I suppose some kind of SUV or van for the business would be a good idea. Maybe next year.
I drive us to Camp Blackhawk and grip the wheel, following all speed limits like it’s my first time all over again. Since I got my license five years ago, I’ve only driven a couple of dozen times. When I do, I have to relearn.
The turn-off to the camp is just ahead, and I start to slow, flyaways dancing across my face with the air sweeping through the open windows.
But a figure darts into the street.
I go still, pressing the brake hard as a young girl dashes across the highway and dives into the brush. I cruise past slowly, peering to the right and watch Thomasin Dietrich—the fifteen-year-old local trouble—race into the woods.
Her white ponytail blows in the wind, her body covered neck-to-toe in black pants and a long-sleeved shirt.
The tips of her hair are red now, a change from the black they were last summer and the blue before that.
She looks back at us.
“What is she up to?” I murmur to myself.
She carries a backpack, is not dressed for summer camp, and I doubt she has any business at Blackhawk. Any that’s legal anyway. Her father hates my brothers and vice versa. She wouldn’t be hanging out anywhere near my family.
She whips back around and disappears into the forest, her house not far down the road.
I turn the wheel, my tires hitting gravel as we approach the camp. I think about calling Dylan or Hawke to come out and take stuff in, but I have somewhere else to be and no time to chat. We drop off the goodies and hightail it out of there, quickly making our way into my neighborhood.
A twinge of guilt hits me even as I purse my lips against a smile.
I don’t want my family pissed, but it feels good to set the pace for once. I’ve kept a secret for a solid twenty-four hours, and it’s a big one they’re going to care about.
Dylan can pull something like that. And definitely Aro.
But Quinn doesn’t break rules. Never Quinn.
Pulling up in front of my house, I see the garages are closed and remember my parents are gone for a week. They’d stopped in while I was busy at work to grab a hug and let me know they were taking off to a resort. It’s perfect, actually. I can get moved out in peace.
“Thank you,” I tell Hailey as she rounds the car and I hand her the keys.
“No problem!”
She hops into the driver’s seat, smiles and waves, and I take out my key, slipping inside the house.