Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 169013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 845(@200wpm)___ 676(@250wpm)___ 563(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 845(@200wpm)___ 676(@250wpm)___ 563(@300wpm)
That was when the door banged open again, and a few seconds later, a guy came striding through the archway like a whirlwind that tore through and left everything in shambles.
All smirks and grins and cockiness.
As handsome as Silas but in an entirely different way.
Brown hair and similar eyes, though his were a couple of shades darker. Where Silas was covered in ink, only a few individual tattoos dotted his arms.
I would say he had to be at least ten years younger than Silas.
All sharp edges, too, but where Silas’s gleamed like razors, his were softened with a cool easiness that made him appear a whole lot more harmless than he undoubtedly was.
When he saw me sitting at the table, he came to a jolting standstill, surprise jetting through his distinct features, before his mouth broke out in a smug grin. “Ah, so this is the one who’s causing such an uproar around here.”
His gaze raked over me before it drifted to his brother. “Gotta admit, the details are becoming a whole lot clearer on why.”
EIGHTEEN
BRINLEY
“Are you sure you have everything you need?” Elena poked her head through the doorway of Silas’s bedroom.
I looked up at her from where I rested against the black leather headboard with a leg curled under me. I’d been staring at my stupid phone for the last twenty minutes, praying for it to vibrate with a message after I’d sent yet another text to Dereck.
Another he hadn’t bothered to respond to.
Only a dull lamp glowed from the nightstand, but I could still see well enough to know Elena had gotten ready for bed.
Her deep brown hair was twisted up at the top of her head in a messy knot, and she’d changed into a cute black pajama set. A long-sleeved top with matching shorts.
Her smile was sly and soft. I wasn’t sure how she pulled it off.
“I think I’m good, thank you.”
“Are you sure? You ask for it, and I’ll see that it’s delivered.” She wagged her brows, clearly tempting me into some sort of gluttony.
I let go of a light giggle. “If you’re trying to offer me more food, then you are looking at the wrong woman. I pretty much had to crawl up the stairs, I’m so full.”
That meal of creamy pesto chicken and mashed potatoes had tasted even better than the heaven it’d smelled like.
I was stuffed.
And confused.
Trying to orient myself to yet another change I didn’t fully comprehend.
It was nearing ten, and by some grand mercy, Silas had remained downstairs when I’d come up to get ready for bed, the confounding man sending Meems off as well and promising to clean up the kitchen.
Who freaking knew bikers were so damned helpful.
Kai was long asleep, zonking out halfway through dinner.
Silas had pushed from his chair and swept him off my lap to take him to his room.
A loaded awareness had rippled around us as he’d pulled the sleeping baby into his massive arms, freezing to stare down at me for two elongated beats before he’d turned, snatched his blanket from the floor, and carried him upstairs.
I was still trying to process that one.
The child constantly trying to give me bites of his food.
His sweet laugh.
His even sweeter face.
The way it made me feel when he called me Bwinwey. Something that felt like it might both heal and hurt. But maybe I needed it. Maybe I needed to feel something I hadn’t ever allowed myself to feel.
Elena’s smile widened. “Meems has that way about her.”
“You mean making you feel like you’ve been a part of her family your entire life when you just met her?”
Elena giggled and shuffled deeper into the room. “Give her five minutes, and you’re hers forever. That is, if she likes you.”
“Did I pass the test?” I tried to play it as a quip. I really didn’t care one way or the other.
At least that was what I was telling myself.
But if I was being honest, I felt like I’d witnessed something special during dinner.
Something unexpected.
Something that I’d been missing for a long, long time. The vacancy inside me was so aged by now, the wounds thickened by scars and calluses, that it felt almost foreign.
Watching them chat and tease and play through the entire meal. Like they were this normal family when you could not mistake that there was a seedy underbelly.
Those men weren’t just wearing those cuts because they liked motorcycles.
I’d heard it last night. I had heard the brutish malevolence that had seeped through that rugged door that I imagined protected some sort of dungeon on the other side.
No, I might not have been able to make out the full story, but I knew that story was there.
Locked up like my old diary.
I just had to find a way to crack it.
I’d do best not to get cozy. Blinded by false comfort.