Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Nothing I did seemed to have any effect. He wasn’t even breathing heavily as I kicked my legs and twisted back and forth. His arms were like frigging rocks, tight enough to keep me contained, but not tight enough to hurt. He also smelled really good.
I scoffed and dug my chin into his collarbone.
“We’re not going to hurt you,” the man holding me said softly, gently closing the door with his foot.
“Pretty sure I blacked out for a second,” the man on the floor groaned. “Fuck.”
“You’re such a dumbass,” the one with the bat said, prodding him with it.
“Lucille, stop,” the man holding me ordered, grunting as I twisted enough to elbow him in the gut. My hair had fallen in my face, and I could barely see in the dark, but I didn’t stop trying to shove him off.
He knew my name.
“Get off of me,” I wheezed, my breath seesawing in and out of my lungs.
He dropped me to my feet instantly.
I stepped backward toward the window as he flipped on the light, making the man on the floor curse.
“We’re here to help you.”
“Get the hell out of my room,” I growled. It sounded very impressive, considering the fact that I was two seconds away from shitting my pants.
“Sorry, no can do,” the man with the bat said, his words cutting off as his head snapped to the side to look at the man who’d been holding me. “No shit, Ulf?” he asked.
The man nodded.
“Awesome,” the man on the floor said with a sigh, lying back flat.
Something about these men felt familiar, which ratcheted up my panic. Where had I seen them before, and how the hell did they know who I was?
“We’re looking for Charles,” the man who’d held me said carefully.
“You’ll never find him,” I replied without thinking.
Then I actually looked at him, and it felt like the floor had dropped out from under me. He was gorgeous. His light brown hair was long enough to brush his collar, but it was smoothed away from his face and looked like it hadn’t moved in our tussle. A little demoralizing that I couldn’t even mess up his hair, but whatever. His light blue eyes were framed with dark lashes, making them pop, and his chin and cheeks were covered in five o’clock shadow a few shades darker than his hair.
He looked like a model or something. It was a little disconcerting.
“We found you,” bat man said with a shrug.
I clenched my teeth together and lifted my chin. I wouldn’t tell them anything. Charlie might’ve been my older brother by thirteen months, but I’d been looking out for him since we were kids. If they thought I was the weak link that would lead them to him, they were dead wrong.
I looked back at the handsome one, almost reflexively. God, he was…
“We’re Zeke’s brothers,” he said, running his hand down the back of his neck.
He was fidgeting. What did that mean? Was he lying?
“I don’t know anyone named Zeke,” I lied. “Sorry, you must’ve gotten the wrong room.”
The man on the floor laughed, then groaned.
“I’m Ambrose Boucher,” the handsome one said, pointing to himself. “The asshole with the bat is Chance. The one you knocked out is Danny.”
I stared at him blankly.
“Do any of those names sound familiar?” he asked, his eyes searching my face.
Of course they sounded familiar. They were my brother-in-law Zeke’s brothers’ names. There was one missing, though. Barry? Brandon? No, Beau. It was Beau. But just because he knew the names didn’t mean those were their names.
I tried and failed to look away from him. It felt compulsive. I had to fight the urge to speak.
What the hell was going on? Had I hit my head or something?
“You’re Lucille Franklin,” Ambrose said. “Your brother is Charles. He was my brother Zeke’s mate, right?”
I stared at him blankly for a moment. His sentence sounded wrong, but it took me a moment to realize why.
Was. He said was.
I took an involuntary step backward, that small word hitting me like a blow to the solar plexus. We’d known that Zeke was missing. When he hadn’t come back for me and Charlie in Belgium, we’d followed his directions to the letter, quietly making our way across Europe and taking a merchant ship home. I’d stashed Charlie and come back to Baltimore, even though Zeke had warned me not to. I’d figured that I could be in and out quickly enough that no one would notice.
I’d hoped that by the time I got back to my brother, Zeke would’ve already caught back up with him, ready and willing to rip me a new one for taking the risk.
“She didn’t know,” Chance—no, Danny—said quietly from the floor.
Ambrose winced.
I tried to control my breathing, but it felt like I couldn’t draw in enough air.