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Neeley’s body jolted once, twice, then his head fucking exploded with blood and brain matter.
He wobbled there for a moment.
Before, finally crumbling to the ground.
And there, standing less than a yard back, gun still raised, was someone I never expected to fucking see there.
Neo.
What the fuck?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Millie
About two hours after Silvano left, I had the crushing realization that I had no freaking idea where to even start making my own plan to help the man I had now fallen hopelessly in love with.
All I did know was that he couldn’t face Neeley alone. That I couldn’t lose him because of his stupid pride.
“Men,” I grumbled, the exclamation making Storm’s head jerk up, looking at me, confused. What does that mean, Mom? “It means your gender are a bunch of bull-headed buffoons who think they’re bulletproof,” I answered his silent question.
Satisfied with that, Storm went back to sniffing around a particularly interesting tree on the side lot of the hotel. He’d had enough of the back of the property as I’d stress-walked him, thinking maybe the exercise would help me think more clearly.
He’d been gone for hours.
It felt like days.
Like weeks.
All I wanted to do was reach for my phone and call him. But I didn’t have my phone. And I didn’t want to call him if he was in a dangerous situation. Nothing could give away your location like a screaming ringtone, right?
“Ugh,” I grumbled, then exhaled hard. “I guess we should go inside, huh, buddy? You’ve got to be getting tired.”
I was.
And yet I wasn’t at the same time.
My body felt exhausted.
But my mind was racing, antsy, barely able to hold onto one thought for longer than a minute or two.
Luckily for Storm, he was none the wiser about what was going on.
I was sure he could pick up on my tension, but he had yummy food and lots of walks, and a big bed that likely smelled like other dogs, even if they’d washed it.
He was a happy camper.
I was alone in my misery.
I was busy watching Storm as we moved through the lobby of the hotel. I really wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings.
It wasn’t until a man’s voice called out, “Millie!” that I realized how stupid I’d been to get distracted.
My heart sank to my feet as my heart flew into my throat.
Mentally, I was calculating my escape routes, wondering if I could be safe in the hotel room if I could slip into the elevator or fly up the staircase.
Or was I better off staying in the lobby?
