Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 146477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 732(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 146477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 732(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
There’s not a single doubt in my head that he had come with the intention to end my life, and yet for whatever twisted, unknown reason to me, he decided to spare me. Which only leaves me wondering why the fuck he went out of his way to save me after finding me in that alley. If he truly didn’t care for my life, he would have left me to die, but he drove me to the hospital like a mad man and even called Knight to make sure I had someone sitting with me when I woke up.
None of this shit is making sense.
A knock sounds again, and this time it’s followed by a pissed-off growl, the tone so familiar it makes my heart sink. “Harper-Rayn, I know you’re in there. Open this goddamn door before I bust it down.”
Fuck. It’s Knight.
Knowing damn well that he would follow through on his threat to annihilate my door, I carefully pull myself to my feet, holding my breath as though that could somehow save me from the pain of moving around.
“If I wanted to see you, I would have asked,” I call toward the door. “Go away.”
“Over my dead fucking body,” he says. “Door. Now.”
I grit my teeth and brace my hand against the wall, using it as a support as I make my way through my apartment. There’s nothing I want less than to have to deal with Knight right now, especially after the text I just sent him, which is clearly why he’s here letting my whole apartment complex know my business.
Honestly, I think I’d prefer to deal with my stalker instead. At least I generally know what I’m going to get with him. He’ll storm in, make some bullshit comments about rules to a stupid game I never agreed to play, and then try to fuck me in some way. With Knight, I have no damn clue. All I know is that after he told me that he thinks it’s all in my head, I have feared having any type of conversation with him.
He led me straight into his trap, drawing me in with that wicked grin and those sparkly eyes, promising me safety and a warm bed to crawl into. And along the way, something shifted. He wasn’t just the forbidden fruit dangling in front of me, daring me to get on my knees, he became so much more. Am I in love with him? I don’t really know, but what I do know is that he holds the power to destroy me and that terrifies me more than any stalker could.
It takes me a lifetime to reach my front door and it doesn’t go unnoticed how despite his threat to bust down the door, he’s actually extremely patient with me, not wanting to rush me.
I step right up to my door, placing my hand against the wood as though I could somehow feel him on the other side and when I peer through the small peep hole, I find him there, his hands braced against the door frame and his head down.
“Are you done watching me through that damn hole or are you going to open the door?”
Fucking bossy asshole.
Letting out a nervous breath, I inch away from the door, just enough to unlock all the bolts and chains, and when I finally reach for the handle and slowly open the door, everything in me breaks.
I’m struck with the overwhelming need to crumble to the floor and sob, but I hold on to the tears, not wanting Knight to see just how much power he holds over me.
He stands before me, those dark, captivating eyes raking over my body, scanning me from head to toe and looking over every last bruise that mars my skin, checking how they’re healing. “You shouldn’t be here,” I tell him.
He steps into me and I immediately back up, needing that space between us, and within seconds, he’s standing inside my apartment, my back against the wall and his body barely a breath away.
He stares at me as if having no fucking idea what he’s actually come to say. “You need to leave,” I say, my voice shaky as my resolve begins to break down.
His gaze lingers on mine and I see nothing but heartbreak reflected in his stormy gaze. “You really think that I wouldn’t catch you if you were to fall?” he asks, looking at me as though I somehow hold the power to bring him to his knees. “I’ve been there, Harper. Every step of the fucking way. I’ve caught you every damn time. When you showed up at my door, I’ve been there. I’ve held you through the night. I’ve bandaged your wounds. How can you accuse me of not having your back?”
I lift my hand, placing it against his racing heart as the very touch ignites a fiery blaze between us, something that’s always been there, lying dormant until we touch. “Do you still believe that I’m making this all up? That all of this bullshit is just a figment of my imagination?”