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)
Ford and Billie are parked on a side street just across the way. And Ford is watching me, leaning against his car. I refuse to be waiting for her because I won’t risk anything happening to her.
I watch as Ivy leans over the table, intentionally pushing her cleavage together. He’s practically drooling at the sight. Fuck, it turns me on seeing her in action. Her confidence that can bend any man to her will. I’m no exception to that, but I know without a doubt I’m the only man who can handle Ivy Walker. Anyone else she’ll eat alive, like the tool she’s with right now. I adjust my cock as I watch her run her hands up his leg under the table.
It brings me great pleasure to know I’m going to be breaking that little man into tiny pieces. But watching her at work… is everything to me. The fucker never had a chance.
I can tell the moment the conversation turns. I’ve seen it all too often. There’s a truth in our darkness, and not everyone can handle it. We’ve become attuned to the moment when the inner crazy comes out in others. Some people’s sins eat them from the inside out. Grief devours others whole until they’re a shell of the person they were, letting their demons run on autopilot.
A flash of the woman I killed comes to mind. She’d become fixated on killing us after we killed her boyfriend. I can’t blame her. I’d do the same. But I would walk away without so much as a second thought. It ate her alive. This schmuck seems like the same type.
Except I haven’t walked away from that unscathed, I remind myself. Killing that woman will never be okay with me. It’s the only code I’ve lived by to not entirely hate myself or what I do because I don’t love every part of my job. But that? That makes men feel dirty.
I can lipread some of the bullshit he’s saying. That it was always Ivy he wanted. Not her friend. This guy’s fucking delusional if he thinks someone like Ivy will give him the time of day.
My temperament changes the moment I notice how her shoulders stiffen, and she becomes tense. Most people probably don’t notice her subtle changes, but I notice everything about her. Ivy is a lover, not a fighter. It’s something I find very interesting about her because, at the same time, while she might be classified as a lover, her intelligence is lethal. Especially now as she honeytraps this pinprick.
I see her nails curl into her palms, and I’m moving.
“Wait, Hawke, she needs to isolate him. Hawke!” Ford calls out after me, and I hear him growl his irritation.
I loom over her, my favorite position to be in, as my glare burns a hole in the douchebag sitting across from her. “Sorry to interrupt, lover, but I heard there was a fuckhead trying to steal my girl.”
She turns in her seat to meet my gaze, and I see instant relief wash over her. Then it’s quickly replaced with something else, and I know she’s probably pissed because I came in a little earlier than planned. I don’t give a fuck. Everyone says I’m impulsive anyway, so I have a reputation to maintain.
“A little early, don’t you think?” she quietly whispers. There are a few couples at nearby tables, but I don’t particularly care. Especially when my father owns this restaurant, and anything that happens can be covered up quickly.
“Stand up, lover. We’re leaving,” I tell her. Her job here is done. We’ll handle the rest going forward. The moment she started to become uncomfortable was the moment I was always going to pull her out.
“What the fuck is this? You’re the same asshole from the party. You fucking hurt my friend!” he snaps, standing up. “Ivy is going with me, so I suggest you leave.”
“Oh, ho?” I growl as I size him up, and Ivy stands between us. “Did the little asshole grow some balls because he killed someone?” He pales as if realizing he’s exposed himself. Fucking idiot. I lean in. “Let me tell you, from one killer to another, anyone who so much as touches a woman is a piece of shit. You’re a coward, and I particularly enjoy torturing cowards.”
“Hawke, you need to stop,” Ivy says, and I don’t know why I’m getting lectured. There are only a few onlookers. Besides, there’s not a thing to see here. But when I glance down, I notice the steak knife she’s holding, and my mind goes blank. “I want to hear what he says.”
“Then come with me. Fuck this guy,” Jared says, encouraging her into his arms so he can leave. I’m impressed that instead of comprehending he’s been backed into a corner, his tiny ego thinks he’s a king when a goddess is standing in front of him with a knife in her hand.