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“Do I know these men? Met them before? Are they my age?”
“A little older.” He decides to move on, despite the way he’s gripping the steering wheel like it’s someone’s throat he’s dying to snap. “No more than five years at best. As for whether you’ve met them before, I have no clue. Your father didn’t give me much detail, and sadly, we don’t have time to investigate.”
“Which bothers me,” I grumble. “Changing this initial meeting to tonight instead of tomorrow? Knowing we’d be stuck in rush hour traffic and the reality of Leighton being so fucking far from everyone.”
Hidden away in green pastures, fields of roses, and antique architecture.
“An advantage they’re using to the best of their ability,” Warren mutters. “Smart but makes me a tad wary.”
“How so?”
“How many of you are being summoned?” he wonders more to himself. “There have to be more than ten women to suddenly text and email all chosen candidates to meet at an undisclosed location with coordinates that prove to be on Leighton territory but have no other disclosed information.”
“On both the web and dark web?” I clarify.
“Nothing,” he firmly confirms.
“Fun,” I smirk to hide my dread. “I’m bringing my knifey with me.”
“Knifey?” He actually cringes in dismay. “Don’t say that around others.”
“Aww. Gives you the ick, hmm?” I tease. “Don’t miss me too much, Warren. You’ll get homesick.”
“So you’re affirming you’re my home?” he offers, to which I’m forced to take note of my commentary.Fuck.“And again, I’m not going to miss you when I’m going to be around.”
“You can’t possibly do your duty as my bodyguard while I’m fulfilling this fucked-up candidate shit because Daddy Dearest thinks this is the best way to put the past behind us and give me my freedom,” I summarize, despite how disgusting it feels getting those words out. “You can’t stand a male stranger attempting to flirt with me. How are you going to survive with these men intentionally doing anything to hurt me?”
He doesn’t answer.
Of course.
Rolling my eyes, I sigh while pulling out my phone.
And frown.
“What?” It must be my stillness that gets Warren’s attention, but I’m still processing the new message glaring back at me below the 5:55 p.m. time.
“There has beenanother change of plans. The time slot of 20:00 has now been changed to 18:15 due to a few dropouts. Please arrive at the location promptly. Any late candidates will be disqualified.”
— The Ruthless Kings of L.R.U.
“Gemini.”
I can barely hear Warren’s voice over my racing heartbeat while my eyes slowly look at the car screen to confirm we won’t make it to the coordinates until 18:45.
That’s only if our car starts moving now.
“So… remember when I said if this dark world of money and bloodshed wasn’t for me, I’d be a track star?” I begin and unbuckle my seatbelt.
“Yes,” Warren begins, eyeing me suspiciously. “Verena.”
“I’m going to test out that theory,” I announce and open the door.
“Jesus fucking— Gemini! Where are you?—”
“6:15. I have to be there in less than twenty minutes, Warren,” I stress as I’m already out and kneeling to ensure my six-inch combat boots are laced up.
My feet will blister by tomorrow, but at least I’ll be alive to feel pain.
