Total pages in book: 188
Estimated words: 185811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 929(@200wpm)___ 743(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 185811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 929(@200wpm)___ 743(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
They’d been divorced for more than two months, and he just wouldn’t let go. “I guess I just got tired of getting the crap kicked out of me.” She was done cowering in front of him. Marrying him had been a colossal mistake, and someday she’d forgive herself for that. But not yet.
He shook his head. “You have such a bad memory and you make things up. You know that, right?”
She was finished doubting her own sanity. How could she ever have trusted him? Sure, she’d been in a weakened state when they’d courted and married, but even so. Where had her brain been? “No. I don’t.”
“You owe me, Abigail,” he said. “How could you ever forget that?”
Yeah, she had once owed him. Maybe. He’d saved her life in a car crash, and their whirl-wind romance had gone on from there. They’d married too quickly, and then hell had descended. “Not anymore. I figured I’ve paid you back or done my penance or whatever. We’re even, and it’s time you moved on.” There. She’d said it.
He clucked his tongue. “I’m never moving on. We belong together, and someday, you’ll realize it. No matter what I have to do.”
Her knees trembled, and she hid the reaction. There had been a time she’d been fearless, and that was too long ago. Living with him had taken a toll, and she was just starting to find herself again. “Shouldn’t you be chasing ambulances or something?”
Surprise shot into his eyes a second before he grabbed her arm. Hard.
“I suggest you release her before I break your entire wrist,” came a low voice from behind her.
She jumped and partially turned. Noah Siosal’s long strides ate up the distance between them, his massive arms carrying two huge bags of groceries. Where in the heck had he come from? She glanced at the doorway to the store. The guy had moved silently, now hadn’t he?
Monte looked over the stranger. “This is a family matter. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll move on your way.”
Noah flashed his teeth in a parody of a smile. “Oh, friend. You don’t want to threaten me. Remove your hand. Now.”
Real chills cascaded down Abby’s spine, and she almost instinctively intervened to tell Noah that things were all right. There was a time she would’ve done so, just to avoid a scene. Not now. Now, she wasn’t responsible for either of their actions. So she kept silent.
Noah’s chin lowered, and his very broad shoulders went back.
Monte dropped her arm.
She blinked. Wow. Okay, then. She took several steps back, leaving nothing between the two men, who stared at each other with equal amounts of derision. Most people backed down when faced with Monte’s wrath. Not Noah. Interesting. If anything, he looked slightly irritated. Did he truly not understand how the town worked?
Monte smiled then. “Listen, buddy. You’re mistaken in your actions here.”
“Buddy? I’m not your ally here.” Noah leaned forward, his body one long and lean line of pure threat. “My buddies don’t mishandle women, and I’ve not once found myself itching to take off a buddy’s head. So that must not be you.” His voice, low and hoarse, wound through the chilly day. “Touch her again, and it’ll be the last thing you do.”
“Is that a threat?” Monte asked, using his lawyer voice.
“You bet your ass it is,” Noah said, not moving an inch.
Abby’s stomach dropped, and she pressed a shaking hand against the cold window of her backseat. “You should leave, Monte.” How was her voice so calm?
“Again, you misunderstand. She has mental discrepancies and needs help.” Monte straightened. “But right now, I’ll go. I’ll talk to you soon, wife.” He turned on his heel and strode toward the store doors, his long steps hitching when Ivar stalked outside, his arms full of green apples, one in his mouth. Shaking his head, Monte passed him and crossed inside.
Ivar paused. “What did I miss?”
Noah didn’t like the paleness of the female human or the wide brownish green eyes. Scratch that. Her eyes were stunning. Clear, intelligent, soft. But right now, her pupils had widened as if she’d been hiding from predators. “Are you all right?” he asked.
“Fine.” A soft coral color slid across her angled cheekbones, just beneath that smooth skin. “I appreciate your intervention, but I’m not sure you understand the situation.”
Ivar finished approaching, munching loudly on the apple. “Did he call you wife? You married?”
“Divorced,” she said, the sound relieved. “He’s having a hard time letting go.”
Ivar partially turned to eye the storefront. “He’s the guy who said you threw a pitcher at his head and then actually got you arrested and charged for it?”
She shuffled her feet. “Um, yeah. I guess you could say that.”
Ivar opened his mouth and Noah quickly intervened. “We’re not killing him.” Not right now, anyway.