Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 56238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
“Oh you think you’re so smart, don’t you, Riffraff. Fuckin’ Hellion garbage.” Brett taunts. “Got it all figured out.”
“Well if I’m wrong, tell me, Brett. Tell Colleen matter of fact, clue her in.”
“She is here to see what a mother does for a child. She has begged me to forget how she is the reason my baby is dead. I can’t forget. Josie is a good mom. The best. Colleen is here to see the depths a mother will go to in order to save their child. The way she never would for our baby.”
I shift my eyes to lock onto Josie looking for any moment I can get the shot off. Colleen screams a gut-wrenching scream dropping her gun and rushing towards Brett. “I didn’t kill our baby. The doctors did it!”
Her movement causes Brett to twist the gun on Colleen giving Josie the opportunity to maneuver out of his grasp.
Brett fires his shot into Colleen, while I embrace Josie running towards me and Grinder lets off the shot killing Brett.
“It’s over,” I whisper into Josie’s hair. “Don’t look back. Stay focused on me,” I explain holding her against me. I give a nod to my brothers, putting the safety back on my gun before sliding it into the waistband of my jeans.
I back out of the house keeping Josie against me so she can’t see the pools of blood from the two dead bodies in what was once her living room.
“You’re safe,” I whisper over and over.
“Thank you for making Justice the priority,” she tells me when we stop in front of my bike waiting on the police to come.
“I love you, Josie. I love him. In order to protect you, he needed to be safe. I’m always going to keep him safe and you too.”
She drops her head against my shoulder. “I love you, Dean,” she whispers holding onto me.
We stand there and I give her the quiet to process what just happened.
Eighteen
Josie
I’ll give everything for him including my freedom.
* * *
A scream rips from my throat, yanking me from the depths of the nightmare. My chest is heaving, my skin damp with sweat, and my hands clutch at the sheets like they might anchor me back to reality. The terror lingers, clawing at the edges of my mind, even as I blink into the darkness of the room.
Justice.
I saw him disappear. One second, he was in my arms, warm and safe, his little face tilted up toward mine with a sleepy smile. The next, he was gone. Vanished into a void, like he had never been there at all. And I couldn’t find him. I screamed his name over and over, my voice tearing through the night, but he never answered. I ran, I begged, I sobbed—but he was gone.
My breath shudders out of me as I force my eyes to adjust. My body is still tense, bracing for the loss that isn't real. The nightmare tries to pull me back under, whispering that it could be real, that it was real, but then I feel it—
Warmth. Strength.
Arms wrapped around me, holding me firm against a steady chest. The deep, even rise and fall of his breathing brushes against my back, grounding me in something solid. Dean.
I squeeze my eyes shut, pressing my face into the pillow as I let the sensation of him chase away the lingering fear. His scent surrounds me—leather, smoke, and something undeniably him. I don’t know when I moved in the night, but at some point, I must have turned into him, seeking him out like he’s, my lifeline. And he didn’t let go.
A rough, sleepy voice murmurs against my hair, low and groggy. “Jo? You okay?”
I don’t answer right away. My throat is too tight, my heart still hammering against my ribs. But then his grip tightens, his hand smoothing up my arm, over my shoulder, until his fingers tangle with mine. I breathe out, the nightmare starting to fade under the warmth of his touch.
“Bad dream,” I whisper, my voice hoarse.
Dean shifts behind me, his body curving protectively around mine. “Justice?” he guesses, and the way he says it—so sure, so knowing—makes my throat close up all over again.
I nod. “I lost him,” I admit, my voice cracking. “He was just… gone.”
Dean is silent for a beat, then he moves, rolling me gently onto my back so he can look at me. The room is dark, but his eyes find mine anyway, sharp and sure. His fingers brush over my cheek, then slide down to rest against my racing pulse.
“He’s safe, Jo,” he tells me, his voice steady. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
The dam inside me cracks just a little, the fear unraveling, loosening its grip. I exhale shakily, my fingers gripping his shirt like I need to feel the fabric between my hands to believe him.