Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 128356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
“You fucking—” Jude slams him against the wall, the thud echoing loudly, but Marcus just laughs harder like a maniac.
“What? You’re going to stand there and tell me you didn’t, in fact, invite death upon your supposed best friend?”
“It’s not his fault.” I rush toward them, my voice and body shaking.
Both Jude’s and Marcus’s attention swings to me, and my trembling gets worse at Jude’s stare. It feels like it’s been ages since I saw him, and I almost forgot how brutally beautiful he is.
Like a rush of darkness in the light.
An anchor in the wild sea.
His brown eyes flicker over the length of me, observing, assessing, as if he needs to make sure I’m in one piece.
“It’s my fault,” I whisper to Marcus. “Preston did that to protect me—”
“That’s right. It should’ve been you.” Marcus barks, and Jude punches him in the face. Blood trickles down his nose and the corner of his lip.
“Shut the fuck up, Osborn!”
“But I’m right. She should be the one in that room right now—”
Jude punches him again, the sound echoing in the air as more blood drenches Marcus’s face.
And then they’re punching each other, the anger and absolute madness in their violence echoing in thwacks and grunts.
I try to intervene, but Dahlia pulls me away and toward Kane, who’s on the phone, calling someone to come escort ‘a raging bull’ out.
“Jude says this is yours.”
I look up at the sound of Lawrence’s voice, momentarily distracted from the fight.
He seemed completely disinterested in his surroundings earlier, but he’s standing now, and he’s so tall, with a presence that grabs you by the throat.
Lawrence’s hair is styled, his expression lined with years of experience and the look of a man who’s seen it all but wasn’t impressed. His eyes are a curious shade of blue and green—a familiar color I swear I’ve seen before.
But where?
He shows me his palm, where he’s holding the bloodied bracelet I gave Preston.
My lips tremble, but I shake my head and don’t reach out for it. “Pres…Preston said it’s an important family heirloom, so I must’ve had it by mistake. Mom probably stole it or something…”
“But Preston said that’s impossible,” Dahlia interjects, then bites her lower lip. “Sorry, Vi. I told Jude and Kane that Preston lost his cool about the bracelet and seemed to have come to a realization.”
“He did.” Lawrence’s voice is cool and collected but has an underlying tension. “I believe I’m coming to the same realization.”
He’s watching me closely, his eyes skimming over my face the same way Preston’s did that first time I met him and he did an imaginary interview.
Ever since then, Preston’s been treating me warmly, completely negating the rumors that he’s malicious and never stays in anyone’s company for more than a few days. That, aside from Jude and Kane, he distrusts and downright loathes everyone else.
That hasn’t been my experience.
If anything, he’s been so welcoming and has always made me laugh and tried to cheer me up. He made my move to Graystone Ridge such a breeze, as if I was always meant to be here and restart my life.
And all he got in return was being shot on my behalf.
Just like Mama said, I’m bound to hurt everyone who gets close.
“Do you mind if I keep this?” Lawrence strokes the bloodied bracelet.
“Not at all.”
“Can you also do me a favor and not discuss any of this with outsiders?” He pauses. “I believe it’ll help me pin down the culprit who put a bullet in my son.”
“Absolutely,” I say.
“Okay,” Dahlia says, sounding suspicious. “But can you tell Vi why her mother had your father’s important bracelet?”
“I need to verify a few things first. I’ll ask for your cooperation in due time.” His gaze flits to Jude, who’s still trying to fight Marcus as a couple of men pull them apart. “From the little research I’ve managed to gather, you were Julian’s test subject?”
My spine jerks. Julian is the last person I want to talk about right now, but I still nod. “Yes.”
His lips purse, but he sets them back in a disinterested line.
I’m about to ask what that has to do with anything, but the door of the operating room area slides open.
Everyone comes to a halt, as if no air exists and we can no longer breathe.
Marcus, who was fighting off the men, grows still. Jude and Kane rush to the doctor, who removes his cap, revealing damp gray hair.
“How is he?” Jude asks, his voice thick with a tension that matches the knot in my stomach.
The doctor looks at Lawrence, who stops behind the other two and bows his head. “We tried our best, but he lost a lot of blood. My condolences, sir.”
I fall onto the floor, bringing Dahlia with me as she tries to keep me upright. I choke on my tears, my fingers digging into my sister’s arm as a wave of nausea rolls through me.