Page 85 of Desperate Crimes

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My fingers curl around the phone until I hear the subtle crack of strain.

What the fuck?

I rise so fast my chair nearly topples.

The guard standing outside the door turns to face me. He raises an eyebrow, but I just give him a look that says shut the fuck up.

He’s trained well. Knows better than to comment.

Then, I order him to close the door. And he does it without question.

Quickly I locate her phone, and a deep growl rises in my chest.

Leanna’s in Manhattan.

Her apartment.

Fuck.

I want to go there right now.

In my head, I’m already halfway to her.

My pulse is thundering. Fury strikes me like a lightning bolt to the spine. I want to howl.

Break things.

Burn the city down.

I gave her everything.

My secrets. My obsession.

But not my fucking name.

Not yet.

And I have every intention of doing that.

But now, it’s gotta be rushed.

Why? Because she walked.

She fucking walked.

I didn’t plan for this. I should have. But I didn’t.

So, I’m dialing her number before I can talk myself out of it.

She wants distance? Fine.

This is all she gets, though.

I’ll give her inches before I close the gap.

Because this isn’t over.

Not even fucking close.

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