Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 151097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 755(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 504(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 151097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 755(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 504(@300wpm)
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does.”
“Ocean.” She sighed, sounding more like herself already. “Let it go.”
Never. But I will… for now. My murder list never ends.
“Well, since you don’t want to hang out with my mom and Coby, you’re spending the day with me. Go get dressed.” I nodded toward the bedroom. We’re heading out soon, so wear something warm but comfortable.”
The cabin fever must have been setting in because Hunter didn’t argue. Ten minutes later, we were leaving the cabin.
“It’s freezing,” she remarked. Under her short, black winter coat with an oversized fur hood, she wore a black, fitted Dri-FIT jacket, matching leggings that highlighted her curves, and snow boots.
I touched my mouth, swearing I’d felt a little drool at the corner.
“We should be getting more snow soon,” I replied, wondering about the last time I had to make small talk. I was used to having conversations about death, money, and power. And the people on the other side of it always preferred skipping over the niceties and getting right to it.
A fully recovered Paul was waiting for us as instructed. Hunter taunted him with a wave of her fingers, and I punished her with a hard slap to her delectable ass that made her yelp before she quickly climbed into the back of the Denali.
“I assume this means the wedding won’t be taking place soon?” she asked once Paul drove off. Anyone else might think she was merely curious, but I knew better.
“The wedding will happen in a few weeks as planned,” I confirmed.
The winters were particularly dreary and harsh this close to the Great Lakes, so a winter wedding wasn’t ideal.
“You sure? I heard May weddings are all the rage,” Hunter suggested a little too amicably.
I slid my tongue over my front teeth and stuffed my hands in my pockets to keep them to myself. Sometimes, I didn’t know if I wanted to wring Hunter’s neck or kiss her. “And it’s time enough for Coby to get cold feet, huh?”
Hunter didn’t reply, telling me I’d hit the nail on the head.
“It doesn’t matter when Coby marries me,” I said without hiding a damn thing I was feeling from her. “Only that she does. I know you want to stay, Hunter, even if you won’t admit it. I suggest you stop trying to jeopardize what I have with Coby and start figuring out what it is that you want from her, or else Coby will never forgive you.”
Hunter crossed her arms, and the movement had my gaze lowering against my will. The tops of her heavy breasts were now spilling from the unzipped portion of her jacket, and I briefly lost my train of thought. “You’re one to talk.”
“Yeah? How so?”
“Because you want to have your cake and eat me too.” She smirked. “And when has that ever worked out for anyone?”
I grew hard at the thought of eating Hunter’s pussy. “Probably never. But I’m not just anyone, Hunter, and once I get my dick deep inside you, you’ll know it too.”
“I hate you.”
“No, Vengeance. You don’t. You only wish you did.”
I caught Hunter’s nostrils flaring before she turned her head to stare out the window.
The rest of the drive passed in stilted silence.
When we reached our destination, I smirked to myself when I saw her perk up in my peripheral, but I pretended I didn’t as I stepped from the Denali and held out my hand. Hunter ignored it and climbed out. As soon as her feet touched the ground, I placed my hand on the small of her back, and she stumbled a step.
Abel, who had beaten us here, strode forward to meet us as we approached.
“I did a sweep of the building. It’s all clear,” he said while glancing nervously between Hunter and me. I already knew what he would say before he spoke. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“It’s fine,” I told him as we entered the building.
It was unusually quiet since we had the entire place to ourselves today, but Hunter was already looking around suspiciously, as if she were seeking out another trap.
Or planning her escape.
I led her over to the heavy double doors with multiple safety signs hanging on them and a grim-looking man standing in front.
“Kilpatrick,” the range safety officer greeted gruffly.
“Stoll.” I shook the older man’s hand.
He grunted grumpily and then turned to lead us inside the control booth—a long stretch of hallway between the bathroom, office, and cleaning room on the left side and firing lanes behind a bulletproof wall on the right.
“Your man got everything set up for you,” Stoll said after letting us inside the firing lanes and over to one of the booths in the middle. “Handguns, safety gear, mags, and ammunition.”
“Thanks, Stoll.”
“I’m told you have some experience. I assume you know the safety and firing regulations, young lady? Same as any other range.”