Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 94997 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94997 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
I pick at the sandwich, making a decision to take back my power. This incident has deeply affected me, and I’m sure I’ll have to figure out a way to overcome it completely. But my curious mind needs answers. I need to know what I’m dealing with.
“Did you find out who drugged me?” I ask, trying to be nonchalant as I take a bite.
“Yep,” he answers, already having demolished his sandwich. Okay, I should’ve made him two. “It’s been handled.” And that’s all he gives me as he lies down, his massive arms flexing as he tucks his hands behind his head. I don’t even want to ask what his definition of “handled” is. If he’s anything like my father or the other men we’re associated with, it means the guy is on a magical boat to hell, most likely sent there by an excruciating death. Suddenly, I’ve lost my appetite.
“Do you want half?” I offer.
“You should eat more than half.”
“I can’t. It hurts my stomach,” I tell him, and he’s quick to devour it.
I lie down beside him, staring at him. It feels surreal and intimate. I’ve never done this with a man… just laid in bed beside them and not fucked. But it’s his ease with the situation that scares me most. He must’ve done something very bad. I just hope he doesn’t get himself in trouble for my sake.
“What did you do to him?” I whisper.
His dark eyes study me carefully as he casually tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear, as if not realizing he’s giving in to his impulses. But it feels comforting, even if it is foreign. “I informed him what he did was wrong.”
“Yes, but what did you do?” He doesn’t answer. “You know I can find out, right?”
“Oh, I’m well aware of your tracking and hacking abilities, lover. Just because you try to keep some of it a secret doesn’t mean I don’t know.” He winks. “Now, go back to sleep.”
“I should probably go home.” Despite how much I’ve slept, I want to close my eyes again, willing this all to be over. I might’ve been saved, but how many other women hadn’t been? And the unknown, that blank space in my memory, haunts me. Because anything could’ve happened. I’ve always lived so freely, and this weekend has shaken me to my core as if momentarily clipping my wings.
“Sleep now, woman.” He reaches for me, and I let him pull me close, my hands resting on his chest as he wraps his arms around me. I don’t even want to fight him. Instead, I embrace the comfort he offers. For once, I’m grateful Hawke is able to speak in a language I understand well. A language spoken with his body. Because right now… this… it gives me all the comfort I want.
I nuzzle into his warmth, surrounded by the smell of his cologne. My mind begins to circle with the what-ifs, and every time I’m swept away by them, I focus on him again, bringing me back to the now. To the security of being safe in his arms. I can tell when he starts drifting off because his arms turn into dead weight, loosening enough that his hand drops to my hip.
He might be an asshole, but I will forever be grateful to Hawke for this moment. I close my eyes and try to follow his lead, not yet entirely ready to face this day or the new reality, knowing already that it’s changed me. I’m not sure if it’s for the better or the worse.
When I wake up, he’s gone. I wipe my eyes, a sudden sense of loneliness overtaking me at his empty spot. I grab my phone from the side table, trying to adjust my eyes to the bright screen. He has blackout curtains, so it’s a surprise when I realize it’s midday already.
I didn’t hear him leave, but then again, I slept like the dead. I feel even better than before. I’ve never slept this much in my life. I sit up and find my outfit washed and folded at the end of the bed. I have no intention of wearing that dress again. The heels, however, I’ll keep.
I pick them up from the floor, but still take the dress and underwear with every intention of burning them. I don’t ever want to think of that night again. Still wearing his shirt, I put on my heels. It might not be the most stylish thing, but I’m confident in pulling off almost anything. And I just need to get home.
I look over my shoulder to the camera that I know is hidden there and give it a small wave before I leave the bedroom. Downstairs, on the kitchen counter, I find my purse. I take that as well as I check my phone. I have a missed call from Billie, a text from Hope, and two messages from my mother about dinner tonight.