Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 47615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
We reached my assigned room, a door identical to all the others in this section of the compound. I slid the keycard into the lock, pushing the door open to the one-bedroom apartment. I’d helped them finish the inside of a few of them. Truthfully, I’d often considered asking Knight if he’d let me stay at the compound with him. I hadn’t lied when I’d told him that earlier. It had just never been the right time. Looked like fate had decided I’d waited long enough.
“Home, sweet home,” I murmured, stepping inside. I turned to thank Jag for the escort, words already forming on my lips.
They never made it out.
Jag moved suddenly, with a speed and grace I wouldn’t have expected from a man his size. One moment he was standing in the doorway, the next he had backed me against the wall beside the door, one hand braced beside my head. His eyes locked with mine, a fierce question burning in them for just a heartbeat.
Then his mouth was on mine, hard and hungry. Nothing gentle about it. His body pressed against mine, solid and warm, pinning me to the wall. My surprise lasted only a second before I responded, my hands gripping his shoulders, pulling him closer rather than pushing him away.
The kiss was electric, desperate, like a man who’d been starving. His free hand came up to cradle my face, the gentleness of the gesture a stark contrast to the intensity of his mouth on mine. I tasted need on his lips, felt the tension in every muscle of his body as it pressed against mine. My head spun with the suddenness of it, with the raw emotion behind it. This wasn’t calculated or planned. This was pure instinct, a dam breaking after too much pressure.
Then, just as abruptly, Jag pulled back. His breathing was ragged, his eyes wide with something that looked almost like fear. Confusion crossed his face, followed by a flash of regret so brief I might have imagined it. He stepped away from me as if burned, his hands dropping to his sides.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m… sorry.” He turned and walked away, his strides quick and purposeful. I remained against the wall, one hand rising slowly to touch my lips where I could still feel the pressure of his. My pulse hammered in my throat, my breathing ragged.
As I watched him disappear around the corner, a small smile formed on my lips. I suspected I understood what had just happened better than he did. A man who’d been locked away from human contact for nearly forty years, suddenly confronted with feelings and instincts he didn’t know how to process. He was running from himself, not me. But something told me he wouldn’t be able to run for long.
Chapter Five
Jag
I watched from my spot behind a maintenance shed while Knight held the door for Ada as she climbed in the SUV. My bike waited a hundred yards away. Knight thought Ada would be safe if he stayed with her while outside the compound. Knight was wrong. I could feel that itch between my shoulders telling me this was a bad idea. I’d had that same feeling since I spotted that shadow in the trees the day I found Ada with her flat tire. Now, with Rat Man confirmed to be in Nashville, my instincts screamed even louder. I gave them a three-minute head start before I fired up my bike and slipped out the back entrance.
When I caught up to them, I tried to keep three cars between us at all times. Different lanes when possible. I knew Knight would lose his shit if he realized I was trailing them, but I didn’t care. The thought of Ada being in danger made my chest ache in a way I couldn’t explain.
That kiss had messed me up more than I wanted to admit. I couldn’t stop thinking about how she felt pressed against me, how she’d responded instead of pushing me away. I had no right to her, no claim. I certainly had no right to touch her like I had. And still I found myself circling her like a guard dog that wouldn’t heel.
Knight turned into downtown Nashville, weaving through the increasing morning traffic. I knew their destination. Lana Thompson’s law office occupied the fifteenth floor of a glass high-rise that had gone up while I’d been away. The place screamed money and legitimacy, two things the old Kiss of Death never enjoyed or cared about.
I parked my bike across the street in a parking garage with a clear view of the entrance, tucking it between two concrete pillars. My helmet stayed on as I leaned against a support column, arms crossed. From here, I could watch the whole area and potentially find anyone else watching.