Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 53212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 266(@200wpm)___ 213(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 266(@200wpm)___ 213(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)
“How about you worry about your own shit, goferboy,” I reply.
“Oh, but I am.” His gaze flicks back to mine. “That’s kind of the problem.” He steps closer to me. It’s not enough to provoke, but it’s just enough to encroach on my space.
Kane and Cal both crowd my back, ready to set a whole fucking explosion in motion if they have to. Evan and Mark do the same behind Holland.
“I know what you’re doing. I know what you’re trying to do. And you know better than this, Rook,” he says quietly. “Don’t get attached to her.”
I don’t move, but my jaw is pure steel. “Say her name.”
He doesn’t. That’s deliberate too.
“That blood…” Holland continues, voice low, smooth. “It’s not for you, and you know it. Step aside.”
“Over my dead body,” I declare.
Holland’s smile is foretelling. “That can be arranged.”
“You have no ownership rights, and you know it. To any of them. And the time for you and your masters to do whatever the fuck you want is running out.”
Holland chuckles. “Clearly, I need to remind you how things work.” He steps even closer to me. “Walk away from her, or pay the price.”
Walking away isn’t an option. She is mine.
“You know, Holland, things work until they don’t work anymore. Something tells me we’re right on the cusp of you finding that out.”
His eyes flash. “Careful, Slater.”
“Careful what?”
He shakes his head, smiling again and disengaging by taking a step back. “It doesn’t matter. After tomorrow, she won’t be your concern.”
That isn’t a threat; it’s a promise.
He straightens and claps his hands once. “Come on, boys. Let’s get out of here before we start smelling like fucking trash.”
Cal waits a beat before following them out of the locker room and into the parking lot to listen, and Kane stays back to calm me.
“You all right?” he asks, trying to push me back to the bench to sit down, but I muscle past him instead.
“Rook. Hey. Rook, where are you going?”
I’m shirtless, still in half of my gear and my feet only covered by a pair of fucking socks, but I don’t give a shit. There’s only one place I need to be, and I need to be there yesterday.
Kylie’s by the bleachers, bag at her feet, and pulling her hair back like she’s about to take the ice when I get to her. She looks normal and calm and completely fucking unaware, and because I don’t have time to be careful, I nearly startle her right off the bench and onto the floor with how fast I approach her.
“Kylie, you need to go home,” I say immediately, my tone heavy with demand.
“Oh hey, Rook.” She snorts, gathering herself. “Hello to you too.”
“You need to go home,” I state again, too worked up to soften that shit at all.
Her eyes narrow in offense. “Excuse me?”
I can’t fucking blame her, but this isn’t a time for naïveté-necessitating lengthy explanations. Holland admitted it himself—she’s not safe at all, and after tomorrow, I won’t be able to save her. “You need to go home. Now.”
“What?” Confusion replaces affront as she takes in my clearly agitated expression. “Why?”
I open my mouth, but then I quickly close it. There’s no going back once I open the Pandora’s box of information.
The existence of vampires, her destiny to be with one, her blood’s value—and the corrupt nature of the wealthy that transcends her species—aren’t the kinds of things that put a woman’s already anxious mind at ease.
They’re the kinds of things that send even the strongest into a spiral.
“You shouldn’t be here, Kylie,” I say as gently as I can manage.
“What do you mean, I shouldn’t be here?” Her expression hardens. “I have every right to be here, Rook. The game is over. The ice is free.”
“This isn’t about the ice being free, Ky. This is about listening to me because I’m asking you to,” I say with a groan she wrongly interprets as frustration with her.
“Pretty sure I’m under no obligation to do anything under command, from you or otherwise, without an explanation. The only one who makes decisions for Kylie Kay Moon is me.”
“I’m not trying to rule your life, I swear.” I sigh. “I know I’m not the man who paints the room with flowery faces and smooth lines and even a fucking smile. I know. But I’m asking you, please, to leave this rink right now and go straight home.”
She stares at me like she doesn’t recognize the man in front of her, both because of my demands and the temporary bout of kindness. I can see it scares her—her pulse is thrumming like a hummingbird’s wings—but there’s at least a tiny break in the wall between us too.
She can feel it. This thing, my intentions, my desperation.
She lets out a deep sigh. “I came here to skate. Like I always do, Rook. I don’t see what the big deal is or why I can’t have this tiny, stupid moment for myself.”