Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 111676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
When I glanced through the peephole, it was black. “Again?” The damn neighborhood kids kept spray painting everyone’s peepholes. I’d only cleaned ours off last week.
On a sigh, I released the deadbolt, but like any good Dayton girl, kept the chain on as I cracked the door.
Rogue stood on our worn doormat. With a mocking smile, he lowered the tattooed hand he’d used to cover the peephole. A cold sense of foreboding trickled down my spine at the action, but it wasn’t uncommon for Cassie to refuse to answer the door for him. He always turned up a few days after they’d had a fight. And she always acted like she was going to do anything other than get back with him. The girl had not worked out the laws of probability. Still, despite the sight of him standing on my doorstep being normal, explainable, my brain screamed that he knew we’d stolen his drugs. I also knew my face practically had its own subtitles, so it took everything in me to try to project calm, guilt-free serenity. I inhale peace and exhale worry.
“Is Cassie here?”
“No,” I lied. “She’s out.”
Rogue’s attention shifted over my shoulder. The sappy pop music blaring through the apartment was a dead giveaway of my lie.
He dipped his head on an impatient laugh. When his gaze met mine again, it was glacial. I’d seen Rogue pissed, pleading, even sad, but this was something else entirely. I wanted to step back and slam the door in his face, but that would make me look guilty.
“I don’t appreciate lies, Jade.” Gone was the rich playboy, the wolf shedding his sheep’s clothing and revealing his sharp teeth. The true face behind the Gucci shirts and Ray Bans. One I recognized all too well from years of growing up around hard and desperate men.
“You’re right, Rogue. She is here, but…” I forced my expression into something I hoped was akin to pity. “But she’s really upset this time. She doesn’t want to see you. I’m sorry.”
I went to shut the door, praying he’d let it go. Instead, he rammed his foot into the gap. That one action escalated the situation from manageable to blind panic. I’d been prepared for violence my whole life.
Never walk alone.
Put your keys between your fingers, Jade.
Carry pepper spray.
Remember, eyes, throat, crotch, Jade.
But nothing could have prepared me for the helplessness of simply being female. I wasn’t strong enough to move him or to stop him from forcing his way into my home if he wanted to.
Instead of telling him to fuck off, my mind ran through all the ways I could de-escalate the situation and persuade him not to overpower me. “I’m sorry, Rogue. But you need to leave.” I tried to sound stern, despite feeling anything but.
“Open the fucking door. Now!”
There wasn’t a chance in hell I would voluntarily open that door for him. Of course, I didn’t need to. He wedged his knee through the crack and shoved the wood hard enough that the shitty excuse for a security chain broke. The door flew open, sending me stumbling backward so hard I nearly landed on my ass.
As if that wasn’t enough to have me freaking out, when he stepped inside the apartment, I noticed the blood splatter on his white shirt. Fear paralyzed me for a second before I managed to scramble away from him. I stumbled through the tiny apartment, searching for something I could defend myself with. My gaze landed on the knife block beside the toaster. “I’ll call the police!” I shouted as I rushed to the kitchenette.
“And tell them what?” He laughed. “That the big, bad drug dealer you stole from broke into your apartment?”
There went any hope that he really was just that mad over Cassie not calling him back.
Shouting for Cassie over the music, I reached the knife block. “Get out!” Butcher knife in hand, I turned. My heart dropped when Wolf stepped into the small living room. For one painfully naïve second, I thought he might be there to save me. But as I registered the blank expression on his face, that hope quickly died.
He moved around Rogue and stalked forward like a force of nature, a tsunami I couldn’t escape. I should have been just as terrified of him as I was of Rogue—more so, really, since Wolf was twice his size, but my brain couldn’t quite seem to muster the same fear where Wolf was concerned.
“Careful, Wolf. Voorhees might stab you.” Rogue laughed as my ex rounded the kitchen counter.
I held out the knife. “I will hurt you, Wolf.”
Amusement flickered in his blue eyes, his attention drifting from my face to the blade in my hand. “I don’t believe that.” He kept moving forward, not stopping until the tip of the blade pressed against his stomach, pitting the fabric of his shirt. “Not for one fucking second, Jade.”