Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98000 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98000 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
“Are we going to get your shit and go or what? I’m getting bored.” I stand up, and they stop fighting so we can get what we came here to grab.
I’ll miss Ashford, but I’m excited to be home with Mom for the next couple of months. Things are different for her now. It’s as if there’s a new light in her life. She’s volunteering and has even gotten a job at the library. She got a degree when she was younger but has never been able to use it. My father didn’t want her to work. I don’t understand shit like that, why he never wanted her to be happy, why his need for control went as far as it did.
It’s something I’m conscious about daily because I know there’s a part of him in me, that I thrive on some of the same things he did, but I’ll never let it take me over, never let it make me be the kind of man who doesn’t treat his family right. They’re my whole fucking world, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for them.
“Let’s go,” I say once we have everything.
My BMW is out front waiting for us, Cil and Rory climbing into the back, then falling asleep in about ten seconds.
Aislin already went back home. She was able to bring her car here with us once Dad was gone. She’s been living her life with her newfound freedom—though I can’t pretend I’m any less protective. Her self-defense program has gotten bigger at the college, filled with a group of women who support each other and watch out for each other in this messed-up world.
“I like you in my shirt.” Dean tugs at the fabric of my tee—a regular fucking T-shirt. I rarely wore that before him, and while I do feel comfortable in my button-ups, I like being in his shit too.
“You better.”
“I like my marks on you.” He dances his fingertips over the fading purple on my neck.
“You fucking better like that too.” I toss a quick glance at him and grin.
It’s still wild to me that the quiet little boy who liked to color is the man beside me. My man. He’s fierce and strong, loyal and bighearted. I love to read with him, talk with him, watch him while he draws. I swear I would never be away from him if I could.
Dean is mine, and I know he wants me as completely as I want him.
His impulse control leaves something to be desired, but we’re all works in progress. It’s not like I’m perfect either.
“This is going to be different for you,” I tell him. “This summer.”
He’ll be living in a house with my mother and sister. With fucking bodyguards and seeing a lot more of what we actually do. I can’t help thinking of his parents wanting out. My mom, thinking she was okay with all this in the beginning, but growing to hate it.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Dean says, reading my mind. “This is it for me. You’re it for me. I feel…free. Maybe that’s fucked up, maybe that means there’s something wrong with me, but it’s true.”
“If you’re fucked up, I’m fucked up too.”
He grins as he touches the purple marks on his neck. “Then we’ll always be fucked up together. In our own way.”
Not like my father, and with our own moral code.
“My little fighter and his little lord…in our own way. I like that.”
“I like it too.” Dean reaches over and places a hand on my leg.
Whatever the future holds, whatever happens, we’ll take the whole fucking world on together.