Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
“I am not accepting this.” Her words slurred slightly. She crossed her arms, shifted her weight, and came right at him, looking up to his face. “I am not giving you permission to take my SUV.”
He cocked his head. “You can’t drive.”
“You can’t tell me what to do.” And then she shoved him. Hard. Flat palms to his chest.
He didn’t move. Man, the woman really was spoiling for a fight. He got that. In fact, he’d just had a fight with his own brother. But now wasn’t the time. “I have to go. Behave yourself.”
Her eyes flared. “Behave?” She clenched one muddy hand and aimed it right for his gut, wincing when she made contact.
He grabbed her wrists. “You wanna talk now?” His temper wanted to blow.
“I want you to stop acting like you own me,” she snapped, yanking her arms back.
He didn’t have time for this. “I’m not. I’m just trying to keep you alive.”
“That isn’t your job.” Her eyes flashed with a desperation and fear that nearly pushed him over the edge. What was scaring her so badly? She moved to shove him again, and this time he caught her halfway and kissed her. Hard.
No warning. No room for breath.
Her fists hit his chest once and then curled into his shirt. He had no idea if she was going to slap him or climb him—and didn’t care. Because every part of him wanted more. And for once, he was done pretending he didn’t. Finally, he wrenched his mouth free and opened the door. “We’re not finished with this. When I get back, we’re having that talk.” He was done with the fear in her eyes. He’d take care of the threat, and then he’d figure out what to do. “Lock the fucking door.” He shut it, heading out to borrow her SUV, whether she liked it or not.
Chapter 19
Blood dripped down Ace’s temple, warm until the rain hit it. Then his skin went cold. Everything went cold. He leaned against the door of May’s office building, head tipped back, eyes on the black sky above. The streetlight buzzed over him. A flickering, busted hum. Fit the mood.
He deserved the pain. Christian had done him a favor. One sharp fist to the jaw, another to the temple, and suddenly things made sense. Yeah, he’d gotten drunk again. The booze cut the edge off his thoughts. He liked that part, but he didn’t like that he’d let down his brother.
Now he was bleeding. Alone, and waiting for the only person in this town who could take him out of his own head without the booze.
May.
He called her before he could think too hard about it. Told her he was bleeding. Didn’t bother to explain. Then he stood still and waited for her headlights to cut through the dark. When they did, he straightened. Not enough to look good. Just enough to stay upright.
She flew out of her truck, keys already in hand. Her glasses slipped down her nose since she probably had taken her contacts out for the night. “Jesus, Ace.”
“You took your time,” he muttered. Damn, he loved her in glasses.
“I didn’t.” She got the door open fast, hands shaking. Not a good sign. Not from her. “Inside. Now. I’m going to start charging you extra for the after-hours injuries.”
He followed her in, boots dragging mud, blood still trickling down his face. He didn’t limp. Didn’t let himself.
She locked the door behind them and flicked on the lights. He ignored the brightness and then walked toward the table without needing to be told.
“Sit.”
He sat.
She moved fast, grabbing gloves, antiseptic, gauze. Her hair was wet as if she’d just come from the shower. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”
“Fell.”
She gave him a look that said she wasn’t in the mood.
“All right. I ran into Christian’s fist,” he said, voice flat. “A couple times.”
She paused. Not long. Just long enough to let him know she considered his words. Then, like usual, she didn’t judge or ask too many questions. Yet another thing he liked about her. Then she pressed gauze to his temple, maybe a little too hard. He welcomed the pain.
Something fell off the roof outside, no doubt a tree branch from the storm. She jolted, her head turning quickly, and then she returned to her job. Red climbed into her pretty face.
“You’re jumpy tonight,” he said, watching her.
“I’m not.”
He kept perfectly still. “You just flinched from a simple sound outside.”
She kept placing adhesive strips on the cut on his jaw like she hadn’t heard him.
“Did something happen tonight?”
“I’m fine.”
He narrowed his gaze, watching her move. She was wound tight. Not angry. Not tired. Something else. “You want help?” he asked, quieter this time. “You look like you need it.”
“I’m the doctor,” she said through clenched teeth. “You’re the one bleeding.”