Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 97724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
“I called him,” Connor says, then blows out a breath. “Jesus Christ, I’ve never been so scared.”
He tugs his sister into his arms and hugs her close.
“It’s all over,” she says, patting Connor’s back. “It’s all over now. I need to go home and shower, Connor. I feel dirty.”
Because that son of a bitch had his hands on her, just like before. I’d like to bring him back to life so I can tear the flesh from his body.
“I’ll make sure your truck gets returned to you,” Connor tells me. “Miller will drop it off at the ranch. You take this SUV, and we’ll switch them out after we handle everything here.”
“I appreciate it. Billie’s with Riley,” I remind him.
“I’ll deal with that too,” Connor replies. “And I’ll call you or have Billie reach out when I’ve checked in on them.”
“Thank you.” After I shake his hand, I get Skyla situated in the vehicle, then we’re on the way to the ranch. My girl pulls my hand into hers, lacing our fingers, holding on almost desperately.
“I wish I could sit in your lap,” she murmurs. “Can I crawl over and cling to you?”
“I want you safe in that belt, baby. Don’t worry, I’ll have my hands on you all night. I’m not going to let go of you.”
She bites her lip and nods, then looks out the passenger window.
We ride in silence. My heart is still hammering. Christ, I almost lost her today. I could have fucking lost her. I wouldn’t survive her being ripped away from me like that. She’s my entire world, and losing her at the hands of a fucking madman wasn’t an option. Losing her, period, isn’t a goddamn option.
When we arrive at the farmhouse, I guide Skyla out of the vehicle. With her hand in mine, we walk into the house, and she turns into me, clinging to me.
“Let’s get you in the shower,” I say as I lead her to the stairs. My emotions are all over the place. I want to get her clean, to get the blood and gunk from The Asshole off her, and get him gone for good. To take care of her.
To worship her.
“Beck, let’s sit.” She points in the other direction, toward the couch.
“You need a shower, baby. Let me take care of you.”
“Soon. First, I need you to sit with me.” Her voice is even now, and there are no tears in her eyes. No sign of distress. In fact, she looks … calm.
I walk to the couch with her, and when I sit, she straddles me, and her fingers dive into my beard as she tips her forehead against mine.
“Talk to me,” she whispers. “You’re so quiet, a ghrá.”
I’m so fucking angry. With him. With myself for not being there. And I won’t take that out on her.
“Just tell me what you need, Irish.”
She frowns and settles more against me, then wraps her arms around my neck and hugs me close.
“I need you,” she murmurs against my skin, and my heart thumps. “Just you. Please hug me back, Beck.”
I crush her to me, my arms wound tightly around her, and bury my face in her shoulder. I breathe her in, and it all starts to pour out of me. I couldn’t stop it if I wanted to.
“I’m so sorry.” I choke out the words as my hands move up and down her slim back. “I failed you today. I wasn’t there to protect you and Riley, and I’m so fucking mad at myself. You shouldn’t have gone through that. None of what happened tonight should have happened, and it’s my fault.”
“Hey, hey,” she says, kissing my neck. “No, Beckett, don’t you dare do that to yourself. Everything that happened this evening is his fault. Not yours. Not mine. It’s all on him. You got to me as quickly as you could, and at that moment, when I was on those steps with him, you were the only thing that kept me sane. Your eyes. You telling me that you had me. You, Beckett.”
I can’t get fucking close enough to her. She’s clutching me to her, kissing my neck, and I know she’s safe here with me, yet my hands are still unsteady when I reach up to trace her cheek with my knuckles.
“I could have lost you tonight.” My voice is rough. My stomach is in knots. “I can’t lose you, Irish.”
“I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere. You’ll have to serve me with an eviction notice if you want me out of this farmhouse, a ghrá, because I love you.” She smooths her nose up the side of my neck and then along my jawline until her lips hover over mine. “So much that it makes my chest ache.”
“I love you. And no, I’m never asking you to move out of this house. Move the rest of your shit in, Irish. You’re mine, and you can stay forever if that’s what you want.” With a soft kiss, I stand to carry her upstairs, but my phone rings, and I frown. “I’d normally tell whoever is on the phone to fuck off, but this is Billie.”