Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 33998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
He nodded as he began to pour some into the tub. “And Epsom salt. Went to the store earlier to get it while you were asleep.”
My heart clenched in my chest, and tears flooded my eyes almost immediately since my emotions were currently so heightened. I sniffled again and gently swiped at my cheeks. “I don’t deserve you,” I quietly told him, my voice breaking.
He quickly turned to face me and cupped my face in his large, calloused hands, his thumbs gently brushing back and forth over my cheeks. “Hear me when I say this,” he said calmly. Sternness leaked into his words. I nodded at him. “That shit? We’re not doing that. I love you, Cannon.” Another tear slipped down my cheek at his words, sliding through his thick fingers to rest on one of his skull rings. “Love isn’t about deserving someone. It’s about what we share and how we feel for each other, alright? I love you,” he repeated. “As long as I love you, which will be fucking eternity, you will deserve everything good in this damn word, even if it happens to be something as simple as a bubble bath with Epsom salt.”
I leaned forward and softly pressed my lips to his. He deepened it for a moment, his tongue moving with mine in a dance as old as time before he pulled back and pecked the tip of my nose. “Let’s get undressed and soak for a while, baby.” He trailed his fingertips down my cheek. “And when we get in that tub, I’ll wash his touch from your skin. I promise.”
My heart skipped a beat in my chest. My soul physically ached for our connection. “You know?”
He nodded, anger flitting through his features, but I knew that anger wasn’t aimed at me. “You were mumbling,” he said quietly. He drew in a steadying breath. “While you were panicking, you were mumbling his name. Doesn’t take a genius to figure out why you want to scrub your skin, Cannon.”
I drew in a ragged breath, my heart skipping a fearful beat in my chest. “Do you think I’m ruined now?” I asked quietly.
He clenched his jaw and shook his head. “No, baby. I don’t. And if I could bring his ass back from the dead and kill him all over again, I would. And this time, I’d make him suffer for days. Violate him like he violated you.”
Oh, Whiler. “I love you,” I said quietly.
Whiler smiled at me. “I love you, too, baby.”
15
Cannon
Months passed with nothing but peace externally. My time has been consumed with doctor’s appointments, dental appointments, and therapy. I had to go through physical therapy for both of my legs, plus my arm once it healed. My broken teeth were pulled, and implants were put in place of them. And therapy… I had to go to therapy twice a week. I was reluctant at first to go see what I deemed a head doctor, but Whiler refused to budge on the matter.
Turned out, he was right anyway; I really needed to see a therapist. And seeing her twice a week had done me a world of good. I went on medicine to help my sleep and anxiety, and for the most part, the combination of the two kept my flashbacks and nightmares away, though one crept in every now and then.
And Whiler… That man was my rock through it all. He took me to every single appointment. Paid every single bill without batting an eye over the prices. He took over taking care of me one hundred percent, and anytime I tried to use my own funds from working at the clubhouse and what I’d ended up getting from Paul’s untimely death since I’d still legally been his wife, he told me to just put it toward myself.
So… I did. I bought us a house and paid cash for it outright since my asshole dead husband had been a rich fucker with more money than he’d had sense.
Whiler had kissed me senseless and then proceeded to carry me inside, where he fucked me in every single room of the house.
I was sore for days after. That man had the stamina of a fucking horse sometimes, and he apparently enjoyed edging himself because he hadn’t allowed himself to get off until I’d drenched us both by squirting twice.
Fucking masochist was what he was. I’d been too sore to be touched for two days after.
“Here, girl,” Adelaide said, handing me a fruity-looking drink. Adelaide was River’s—the president of the Fathers of Mayhem MC’s—wife. She was beautiful, an unstoppable force, and her husband’s equal in every way. I’d heard she’d once been Joey’s old lady, but no one ever really spoke of it. Though anytime they were together, it was easy to see they’d once been close. And that closeness had only shifted to something else just as strong and unbreakable. They had a unique bond.