Chapter Eight
In which a phone call seemed ominous.
-
“Somebody is f*****g dying tonight.”
Kye looked over his bedside table, already throwing daggers at the phone that continued to ring. He wanted nothing more than to throw it across the room to have it over and under, but he knew that this needed to stop someway—and that could only happen if he finally picked up his phone. His eyes moved to the clock and clearly confused about who had the balls to call him at two in the morning—on a Sunday.
This call better be bloody important.
“Page?”
Kye didn’t know how long he sat at the edge of his bed, looking at the woman’s flashing contact number on his screen. All of a sudden, a small ghost of a smile appeared on his long, his annoyance is long gone seeing her photo blasted on his pho
