Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 58532 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58532 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
His body beside mine. My leg sliding between his. My mouth on his. The way I climbed over him.
I jerk back from the pillow like it’s burned me.
No freaking way. That had to have been a dream.
It had to be.
I might be delirious from being, you know, kidnapped, but there is no way in hell I’d straddle my abductor and kiss him like I was starving. I press my fingers to my lips, bent on proving my theory, but to my utter dismay, they feel tender and slightly bruised.
“Oh my God,” I whisper. “Did I kiss him…again?”
My mind starts to race. Is this what happens to victims? Do they start sympathizing with the person who took them? Is this some twisted survival response where my brain is rewriting him into something safe?
I pace the room, dragging my fingers through my already dried-out hair.
I stop in front of the mirror and stare. My face is devoid of makeup, my cheeks rosy but not from blush, and my hair is frizzing at the ends and flattening at the crown.
I look stripped fucking bare.
“Wow,” I mutter. “Pretty sure this is the worst I’ve looked in my entire life.”
I was raised to be polished and sophisticated and presentable. Not frizzy and unkempt and a complete dumpster fire.
I throw myself down onto the bed in frustration.
But not even a minute later, I hear the sound of the lock clicking, and I sit up immediately.
The door opens, and a girl who looks like she could be my age, maybe a year or two older, walks in carrying a plate of toast and scrambled eggs.
She’s wearing a soft sweater and jeans and not an ounce of designer anything on her body. She looks normal. She looks…boring. Well, besides her face and her hair. Both are beautiful in a way that makes me annoyed.
She pauses when she sees me watching her. “Hi, Blair,” she says gently. “I’m Kylie.”
“Do you know you’re in a cabin with a vampire?”
A small laugh escapes her. “Yes. Better than that, there are three vampire men in this cabin.”
Three? Holy hell. I knew there were others, but I had no idea that brought the total to three vampires and a human woman.
“Why are you here?” I ask, dropping my voice to a whisper. “Are you being held against your will too?”
“No. I’m not being held against my will. Kane’s brother Rook is my…” She hesitates. “Well, I guess the only word that will make sense to you right now is probably husband.”
“Kane has a brother?” He’s not some kind of loner, family-less psychopath like I’ve been picturing?
“He has two,” she continues. “Rook and Calloway.”
“What do they do?” I ask. “Besides being accomplices in the kidnapping of a woman.”
“Rook’s a garbage man,” she says easily. “Calloway’s a mechanic. He also does demolition work.”
“Wait…” I stare at her. “You married a garbage man?”
There’s no edge to her voice when she responds. “Yes.”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Honestly, the idea is so foreign I don’t know how to respond. Blue-collar men were background noise in my life. They fixed things and they left. They didn’t sit at dinner tables. Even the staff that lives at my parents’ house always keeps to themselves and stays out of our way for the most part.
Besides my nanny, I never had much interaction with, like, normal people. Nanny Celeste, the only person who ever let me cry without correcting my posture.
I haven’t seen or talked to her since I was eighteen. When Bonnie and I got old enough not to need a nanny anymore—ten-year-olds should be capable of independence, according to my parents—and only needed a driver, she left us to start working for another family with two small boys.
And you still miss her because she was more of a mother to you than—
I cut off the thought before it can grow legs and run.
“Rook saved my life,” Kylie says, her voice soft and quiet in ways that threaten to knock down my guard.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I was moments away from being kidnapped, and he saved me,” she admits. “This man named Holland had sent three men to collect me from my own house.”
“Holland?” I question.
“Yes. Holland Thorne.”
My hands start to shake. “How do you know Holland Thorne?”
“I ice-skate…well, I used to ice-skate at this rink where he played hockey. Where Rook and Kane and Calloway played hockey too.”
Kane plays hockey? That’s so…violent. Mind you, you saw him kill two men…
“You know Holland too?” Kylie asks.
“Yeah, and he’s actually a super-nice guy, so I highly doubt he sent men to your freaking house to kidnap you.”
“Is he super-nice, though?” she questions. “I know he is on the surface, but deep down?”
“What are you trying to say?” I question. “That Holland is some kind of monster? I’ve been around him since I was a teenager. I think if he were evil, like you say, I’d know it.”