Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 60482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
I try to protest, but he’s already shaking his head. “Don’t give me that look, Vi. You know I can do it. And if he comes near you again—”
“What are you going to do?” I ask, my voice tight.
“I’ll handle him.” He’s up, pacing the room, vibrating with this dangerous, protect-me energy. “Nobody threatens what’s mine.”
I shiver a little, because it’s insane, but it’s also exactly what I wanted, someone to save me, even if I didn’t ask for it. He plants himself back down in front of me after a few minutes, hands on my face, so gentle it’s almost apologetic. “I let you down once, I won’t do it again. You’re safe now, got it? I’m putting security on you.”
“Travis—”
“No arguments,” he says, fierce and low. “And you’re going to tell me every time that fuckhead even breathes in your direction. I’m not playing.”
The words hit me hard. For a second I think about arguing more, about my precious independence, about how I’ve been surviving all this time without him. But none of those things matter right now. All that matters right now is that he’s here, and he wants to protect me. I have to let him.
I nod. “Okay.”
He sighs, pressing his forehead to mine, the air between us crackling. “Good. Now, we never speak his name in this house again unless it is to say we won and he’s gone forever, deal?”
“Deal,” I whisper, sinking into him, letting my past dissolve against the hard certainty of his chest. “Do you hate me for what happened to Lillian?”
“Not a single thing in this world could ever make me hate you, Mischief. Not a single fucking thing.”
Neither of us moves for a long time, and when we do it’s only to breathe together, heartbeat to heartbeat, in the center of our disaster.
There will never be anything else in this world for me but him.
Only him.
11
“MOM, I’M CRASHING AT Reagan’s tonight and tomorrow,” I shout as I shove clothes into my duffel, trying to pack for the weekend. I haven’t told them we are going to Vegas with Travis; I’ve chosen to leave that little detail out. It’s probably for the best.
“Okay, sweetheart,” she answers from the hallway. “Have you told your father you won’t be staying with him this weekend?”
“I’ll swing by on my way,” I promise, sweeping a stray lock of hair from my eyes.
God, I hope I’ve packed everything I need. If I forget something, there’s no coming back for it. I go over the list in my head, making sure I’ve thought of every last item, including sexy underwear. I shiver at the thought of Travis and me in a hotel room, blissfully alone after his show, his sweaty, hard body against mine...
“Your dad texted me.”
I jerk and snap out of my fantasy to see my mother standing in the doorway, hip leaning against the frame. Late afternoon light halos her figure, making her look small and beautiful, like a sparrow caught in a storm. She has this fragile, beautiful energy about her that makes you want to protect her. I can see why Dad loved her, I really can.
I laugh. “Dad texted you?”
She nods. “Yeah, and he left... some smiley face at the end.”
Another giggle. I can picture her getting that message, and I just know her cheeks would have flushed. “You and Chief, exchanging emojis. Do you think—” My words catch as she fixes me with a distant, sorrowful stare.
Her heart will forever belong to him, but he is also the reason for the pain in her eyes.
“There will never be an ‘us’ again, honey.” Her voice is careful, practiced. “And I don’t want there to be.”
Her face scrunches, as if the words hurt even to say, and that tells me they’re not true, not really.
“What happened? I mean, really happened. Not the story you tell nosy people you want to go away.”
“That’s a story for another day.”
“Mom—”
“Some doors, once closed, should stay that way.” She pushes her chin out. “Another day. Another story.” She steps away, the moment slipping through my fingers, but not before I glimpse the tremble in her hand, the way she blinks too rapidly against tears she refuses to shed.
I force a smile, pulling her in for a hug. “Okay, Mom. I love you. I’ll call this weekend.”
“Be safe, baby.”
I leave, flinging my bag into the backseat and firing up the engine. The sky is streaked with gold, the neighborhood unnaturally still. I make my way to the compound to see Chief before leaving this weekend. I know he enjoys when I come and stay, so the least I can do is drop in and see him for a bit before I leave.
The house is quiet, but I can hear chattering voices outside in the compound, in the shed furthest down the back. I’m early; I usually wouldn’t arrive until later tonight, so I know he’s not expecting me. Hoping I’m not going to interrupt club business, I walk down to the shed. The door groans when I push it open. Inside, a single bare bulb hangs overhead, swinging slightly, casting warped shadows that twist across the walls. The stench of iron and sweat slams into me.