Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 53361 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 213(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53361 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 213(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
“What about your father?”
I shrugged. “He was a busy man. He had to keep my mother in designer clothing and expensive sports cars after all.”
“And your brother?” He asked his brief questions with a measured tone, but I could tell by the way he held himself absolutely still he hung on every word I said and that he didn’t like what he heard.
“He passed away a few days later. I know she was upset and I tried my best to be where she wanted me to be, but in the background. Seen but not heard. She took every opportunity to tell her friends how disappointed she’d been when I hadn’t been able to save my brother. It was a miserable few days for me, but I endured because it wasn’t about me. It was about Jace. After that, they sent me to boarding school in London and I saw them maybe three or four times afterward before I took off at sixteen.” I shrugged. “So, I left home and never looked back. Nobody looked for me,” I continued, my voice steadier than I expected. “With the money my father had, if they’d wanted to find me they could have. They were probably glad I disappeared. One less thing to get in the way of their lives.”
He studied me a moment. “You were sixteen when you left?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“And you were nine when they sent you off to school?” I nodded again, confused. “And you saw them four times in those seven years?”
“I’d love to say I was exaggerating, but if anything, I’m overestimating the number of times I saw them. My parents abandoned me. Sure, I had money and food and a roof over my head, but I was told not to come home because international airfare, round trip, wasn’t in the budget. They were already spending a fortune on my education.”
“How’d you get back to the States?”
“I saved most of the money they put in my account each month to buy a ticket. Figured Nashville was about as far from New York as I could get. Maybe not geographically, but socially it’s a world of difference.”
“How old are you, Cora?” He stroked the back of my hand with a thumb, staring at me intently.
“Twenty-two.”
“And you’ve been on your own all this time?”
“Don’t sound so shocked.” I couldn’t help but smile. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
“I have no doubt you can, honey. I just don’t like the idea of you being on your own. Are you safe?” The longer we sat here, the more chatty he was getting. It was kind of cute because this guy acted nothing like the hardened biker I’d pegged him for. He was a marshmallow if I ever saw one. ‘Course, men who were true marshmallows were the ones who were super protective of those they let close. “Just don’t like not knowin’ you’re safe at night.”
I smiled, unable to help myself. “You know, Marcus, I think you’re the first person in my life who at least said they gave a damn about me.”
“I do give a damn about you,” he grumbled. “But I also know I’m overbearing sometimes.”
“Really?” I raised my eyebrows. “Because you seem pretty quiet to me.”
He stayed silent for a while. I thought I might have pissed him off or insulted him or something, but he never let go of my hand. In fact, he kept up that slow lazy slide of his thumb over the back of my hand. “Did you graduate high school before you took off?”
I shook my head. “No. Spent three years on the streets before I got my GED. That’s all I needed to get a job. Which I did. And here I am.” I smiled up at him before gesturing to the garden below us. “Never had anything worth protecting like that.”
Again, he said nothing for several moments, processing what I’d shared. My story represented the first personal detail I’d revealed to anyone at the compound other than in vague generalizations. Sure, the women were all super-friendly and sweet, but I didn’t live here. I might not know much about motorcycle clubs in general, or this club in particular, but I knew a tight-knit family when I saw one. Mainly because I’d spent my whole life wanting that very thing.
When he finally spoke, his voice was gentle in a way I hadn’t heard before. “Somebody should have protected you.”
Five simple words, but they cut through years of carefully constructed defenses. I blinked rapidly, fighting the sting behind my eyes. The rain had tapered to a light drizzle, sunlight breaking through in wider shafts now, creating rainbows in the mist above the garden.
“I protected myself,” I said, hearing the stubborn pride in my voice. “Still do.”
Rancor nodded, understanding in his dark eyes. “Doesn’t mean you should’ve had to.”