Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 128812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
I have no fucking doubt Bobby is sleeping in luxury, despite not providing the same to his followers.
Zeus stands from his bed, arms over his head, knuckles scraping the low ceiling.
I refuse to look in his direction, but the mental rejection has no power when my body controls me around him rather than my mind.
The peek of skin under the hem of his shirt makes me insane, and if we didn't have a listening device in this fucking cabin, I'd risk this fucking mission by punching him in the fucking nose.
The cabin door swings open, startling the shit out of me.
"What the fuck?" Zeus rages as he takes a step in that direction.
Scott smiles, and the pinpoint of his pupils tells me, like always, he's high as fucking kite. It's the only reason he isn't apologizing or begging for his life, given the rage coming off of Zeus.
"Bobby wants you in the conference room in an hour," he says.
"For what?" Zeus growls.
"Meeting," the guy says before closing the door back as if he didn't just invade our space without so much as a courtesy knock.
I turn to face my partner, wide grin in place.
We've never had a meeting in the conference room before. We've only ever seen our name on the board under the tasks we had been assigned all day. That board is the only way I've known what he's been up to, and there's a very real chance that we might've spoken to each other sooner if we weren't given the ability to see what the other one has been up to.
He watches me, and not in a way that makes me think that he's wondering why I'm so happy. He has to know that this is a step in the right direction. We know they've had meetings since we've been here. We've seen the guys walk by the front office, where the task board is hung, toward the conference room.
Getting an invite to the meeting means we're closer to the inner circle today than we were yesterday.
I tilt my head to the side, confused at the look on his face.
When he gives me a sad smile and silently holds out his hand, my first instinct is to grab it and step right into him. My heart clenches, telling me that I have to be careful. He has hurt me more than I think his fists on my skin would, and giving in to him right now is no different from an abused woman thinking her man is going to change.
I swallow and shake my head, a burn of unshed tears behind my eyes.
He pulls in a deep breath, releasing it on a sigh, but there's no frustration in the action. He knows he fucked up.
What I don't know is whether those fuckups will keep happening. It's one thing to make a mistake and ask forgiveness. I'm not one to hold a grudge if someone makes a genuine mistake and needs redemption.
I can't trust that he won't keep making mistakes, which makes me a fool for stepping into him each time he does, hoping he'll change this time.
I glare at him, my mind getting away from me once again.
There's no us.
There's no chance we'll be anything other than two men preferring a sexual release from each other.
There's more value in me than in being that person for him.
If that's what we both wanted, there would be no problem simply hooking up, but he's always been more to me than that.
Maybe I'm living in a fantasy land. Maybe I've been trying to heal some unworthiness I've felt where he's concerned because of how he left things all those years ago.
My mind glitches, taking me on a different path as I stare down at his proffered hand.
Maybe there's nothing sexual in the way he's reaching for me. Maybe he knows how much that has to have hurt me.
Maybe he's just being human for the first fucking time in his life, and he's trying to make it right.
I place my hand in his, feeling weaker than I've ever been in my life, unable to resist his offer.
He pulls me to his chest, his warm arms encircling me.
I sink into him as if the last two weeks haven't been torture.
He pulls one out from around me, curling his finger under my chin. His thumb swipes at the first tear of weakness that has the audacity to roll down my cheek.
In the next breath, he leans down to kiss me.
I'm frozen in place when the door to our cabin swings open for a second time.
Zeus pats me on the back in a brotherly way before stepping back.
I turn to face the intruder, hating the way Scott's eyes narrow as he glances between the two of us.
"He just found out his mom died," Zeus lies.