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)
Marcus kicked the bike to life, the engine roaring with sudden violence that drowned out whatever else my father might have said. The sound reverberated in my chest, primal and fierce, a mechanical growl that matched the wild freedom blooming inside me.
I wrapped my arms around Marcus’ waist, pressing my body against his back, feeling the solid warmth of him even through his jacket. My bare legs extended on either side of the bike, exposed to the night air in a way that would have scandalized my mother, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.
As we pulled away from the curb, I looked over my shoulder at my father. My mother now stood by his side. All she needed was a set of pearls to clutch and a fainting couch and she’d be the epitome of the dramatic Southern woman.
Maybe it made me a bad person, but I shot them both a cocky smirk and flipped them the bird as Marcus popped the clutch and took off onto the streets of Nashville with a surge of power.
The wind whipped through my hair, giving me a sense of freedom I hadn’t realized I’d been needing. The cold bit at my exposed skin, racing up my legs and along my arms, but I welcomed it, needed it to clear my head after the suffocating heat of confrontation.
I pressed my face against Marcus’ back, breathing in the scent of him beneath the lingering traces of unfamiliar cologne. His body moved with the bike, muscles shifting beneath my hands as we leaned into a turn, the city blurring around us in streaks of light and shadow.
For the first time since I’d received my parents’ message demanding this meeting, I felt like I could breathe fully. Each inhalation filled my lungs with cold, clean air, washing away the last traces of the perfumed prison I’d left behind. Each exhale carried away another fragment of the girl they’d tried to shape me into, the perfect daughter, the obedient heir, the empty vessel for their ambitions.
We sped through Nashville’s streets, the wind’s icy fingers combing through my hair, tugging my dress, painting my skin with goose bumps. I didn’t care. The cold was a price worth paying for this freedom, this wild escape that felt like flying.
I tightened my arms around Marcus. He briefly covered my hand where it rested against his stomach. No words were needed between us. He knew, as he always seemed to know, exactly what I was feeling in this moment.
Freedom tasted like night air and victory, like the promise of Marcus’s skin against mine once we were home. And for the first time in my life, I knew I was exactly where I belonged.
Chapter Fourteen
Rancor
We arrived at my quarters in the Kiss of Death compound with my heartbeat still racing, the night ride having done little to cool the fire Cora had ignited in me with her defiance. I shoved the door shut behind us, locking it because no way in the fucking world was anyone going to interrupt me tonight. Freedom looked good on Cora. Victory, even better.
“God, that felt good,” she breathed, her voice still carrying that edge of defiance that had cut through her parents’ expectations like a blade. She paced the floor barefoot, the hem of her black dress swishing around her shapely thighs.
I loosened my tie, watching her move. Her trembling hands clenched and unclenched at her sides, not from fear this time but from the aftershocks of adrenaline. Her lips curved with stubborn pride as she ran her fingers through her hair where it had come loose from the high ponytail that had started the evening.
“You were magnificent,” I said, my voice rougher than I’d intended. The sight of her flushed with her victory, her eyes bright, was the most erotic, amazing, beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
She turned to face me, the dim light in my apartment catching on the subtle shine of her dress, highlighting every curve. “I’ve wanted to say that to them for years,” she confessed. “Every time they made me feel small, every time they treated me like a possession…” She shook her head, a strand of hair falling across her cheek. “In a way, I think them sending me off to boarding school made me realize my relationship wasn’t normal or healthy. Especially when they just left me there. I wasn’t the only kid there with parent issues. Wasn’t even the only one who never went home. But the experience was enough to make me realize I could have more if I was willing to strike out on my own.”
I’d taken down men twice my size in prison without hesitation, faced down rivals and cops with an unblinking stare, but nothing had ever moved me like watching this woman find her voice. The woman who’d somehow become my anchor, my reason, my fucking salvation in a world that had taken everything else from me.