Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 83800 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83800 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
I believe that she believes what she's saying, but convincing my frayed nerves is a whole other story.
I stay on the bed as I watch her leave, my lips lifting up when I see a flash of Ellis as he waits in the hallway for her. The man isn't very keen on letting that woman out of his sight, and I'm happy she has found someone who cares so deeply for her.
I lean back on the pillows, trying to find a blank spot in my mind that will allow me a moment of peace, but I startle at the knock on the door.
Climbing off the bed, I make my way across the room.
"I told you I was—"
My words fade away at the sight of the man standing in the doorway. From his height and build, I know it's the same guy who helped me out of my house earlier, but I'm just now seeing his face for the first time.
He's stunningly handsome, his shirt tight across well-formed muscles at his chest and arms.
He swallows as if he's nervous.
"I thought you were Kaylee."
"Do you need her?" he asks, hitching his thumb over his shoulder. "I can go get her."
"No, thank you."
"I umm... just wanted to make sure you were okay," he says. "After what happened."
"I'll be okay," I assure him. I have no doubt the guy would concern himself with the fear I feel, even though I don't seem to be in any immediate danger.
"You're sure?"
I dip my head twice. "I'll be okay."
"I'm in that room," he says, stepping back and pointing to another room across the way. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to find me."
"I appreciate that..."
"Twisted," he says, making my brows squeeze together. "Paul Carnes. My club name is Twisted."
"Thank you, Paul," I say as I take a step back into the room. "Have a good night."
Even with Kaylee assuring me I was safe, I don't hesitate to flip the lock on the door, unconcerned if he heard the bolt shifting into place.
I don't think there will ever come a time when I'm no longer afraid.
Chapter 2
Rooster
I press my palms to my eyes and rub, wondering if I might need to pull out my contacts and grab my glasses.
I'm no stranger to pulling all-nighters while working, but my eyes have been glued to my computer screen for hours as I try to figure out who in the hell this guy was who tied Kaylee up and held her at knifepoint.
I pull in a deep breath when I see Twisted enter the room.
"Hey, man," I say, shoving my chair back from my computer and lifting my arms over my head to stretch.
He grunts, which is his only response, before sitting at the conference table.
Bandera is next to show up with Heathen coming in last and closing the conference room doors.
"What have you found?" Bandera asks from the head of the table, despite not having been named as president of this Cerberus chapter. I know the man is vying for it, and it has to chap his ass with every day that goes by where he isn't officially named.
I don't know that we even really need a leader. The guys are all working different jobs, but I guess someone needs to head shit up when they go out on a job together.
"She didn't meet this guy online," I tell them. "She went on a date with another guy and met this guy when she was leaving that date. We have literally nothing on him. There's nothing to follow."
"You could see about the videos from wherever that first date happened," Heathen offers as if I wouldn't have thought of that myself.
"I did," I assure him. "I don't know if he had access to their video feed, but it's been deleted. There's nothing."
"Not even a phone number?" Heathen asks, sitting up and leaning further over the table.
I can't even imagine what's going through his head.
Kaylee was traumatized last night, and he has to feel helpless right now.
"The number she was getting texts from is a burner phone. We did some minimal triangulation of where he was texting her from, but it didn't provide any personal information."
"I fucking hate burner phones," Bandera snaps, his hands clenched into fists on top of the table.
"It seems he went super stalker on her very quickly. He texted her within an hour of them exchanging numbers outside of that restaurant," I explain.
"She didn't find that creepy?" Twisted asks, and I can hear the judgment in his tone, as if he can't believe a woman would be okay with getting a text from a guy she just met.
I don't have much experience with women. My job doesn't really allow for it, but isn't the point of dating to get to know the other person? If he didn't text, then how else would they jump-start any form of communication?