Total pages in book: 260
Estimated words: 245483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1227(@200wpm)___ 982(@250wpm)___ 818(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 245483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1227(@200wpm)___ 982(@250wpm)___ 818(@300wpm)
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“Just to the porch,” he answers and knowing he’s not going far settles the unease inside of me.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” I tell him although I’m not sure he hears as the front door shuts, my throat thick with frustration. This was how they were before Cill went away. Planning things together. Getting in trouble together. I could talk them out of things, but honestly, I didn’t most of the time. I was always riding in the passenger seat and chiming in to tell the stories later at Cavanaugh. Nothing major. We never got arrested. But I was Cill’s hellcat, for better or for worse.
I’m older now, though, and someone has to think about these things.
“What exactly are you two going to do?” I say and glare at Cill. An amused smile curves his lips and he stands up from his seat at the table. My heart pounds like they’re taking action right this minute instead of just making plans.
“Don’t be scared, Hellcat.”
“I’m not scared.” The words stumble off my lips as I make my way back to the corner of the cabinets, leaning against the counter. “I’m pissed. I’m fucking pissed, Cillian.” I take refuge in my mug of coffee.
He crosses the kitchen, the legs of the chair scraping across the linoleum floor as he gets up.
“You don’t look pissed,” he counters, his steps steadily bringing him closer to me. The mug clinks on the counter as I set it down, my attention never leaving Cill. “Fine … maybe I’m scared.”
He closes the distance between us and rests his forehead against mine before kissing the tip of my nose and whispering, “Yeah. Me too.”
As much as I love his comforting touch, I pull away, making sure he understands how serious I am.
“I’m scared to lose you—I can’t go through that again.” His lips brush against mine in an attempt to silence me, calm me, or just love on me, I’m not sure. But I can’t shake this uncertainty so I gently push him back. “If your uncle planted shit here when he broke in—if he’s already trying to fuck you over—I’ll fucking kill him.” The words leave me without a second thought. Peering up at Cillian, I watch his brow raise and then the grin grow on his handsome face, his cheek still bruised.
“My little hellcat,” Cillian says, and he kisses me. Not just a light peck. It’s not a move to soothe me. It’s a kiss I know he needs just as much as I do.
And just like then, his mouth on mine makes me forget to fight everyone.
It makes me forget we’re up against his uncle, and seemingly the rest of the world. He flicks his tongue against mine and I forget it all. I forget to be heartbroken that Cavanaugh let me down after Cill’s arrest. I forget everything but how good it feels to be with him.
The hum of the refrigerator kicks on and I fall deeper into the kiss.
Cill pushes me up against the counter, the space between us lighting on fire. As he presses up against me, I’m made aware that Cill’s hard and I tease myself by rubbing against him until he groans. “If you’re going to do that, Hellcat, we should find a bedroom.”
Just then Reed comes back in, the front door slamming shut behind him. “Damn it,” Cill says. He kisses me one more time and pulls away.
Reed’s footsteps are heavy and I’m still catching my breath as Cill turns to face him. It doesn’t make sense that I should feel as guilty as I do when Reed catches my eye.
“What did he say?”
“Yeah. He meets every other week.” He paces through the kitchen, his hand running through his hair. Cill glances back at me as I ask, “What's going on?”
“My uncle was seen with a man a few times. Reed hired someone to follow him after he found the coke upstairs. He’s an agent.”
“An agent? Like–”
“Like, an agent of the Federal Bureau of Investigation … my uncle’s the rat.”
Reed chimes in. “If he’s working for the feds, what the fuck are we going to do?”
“I’m not leaving,” Cill says.
Reed stares at him. “Why the fuck would you stay? I’ve wanted out since you left. It’s been fucking hell.”
“You think there’s nothing worth fighting for? What about Finn?”
“He thinks the same,” Reed counters. “He’s counting the fucking days. He told me when you got out—someone was going to die. I can feel it, Cillian.”
Cillian’s silence speaks to his disagreement.
“You don’t know how far it’s gone.” Reed is quiet and serious.
“Nobody else is going to jail because of him. If someone’s going down, it’s going to be my uncle.”
“Then I hope it’s only him that’s a rat. ’Cause if it’s anyone else, we’re fucked.”
My stomach knots as my mind speeds ahead through what that would mean.