Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 106284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
“Please be cautious,” she pleads.
I wave a hand over my shoulder and make it two steps into the hall when she calls, “You didn’t eat enough.”
Yeah, yeah.
I pull out my phone to text Rogue and almost drop it when I see the text waiting for me, my shoulders tensing.
Michael: I’m sorry I lost control. He was my little brother. My only brother. Surely you can understand that. Imagine losing Callan. Forgive me?
My heart stampedes in my chest. A trickle of fear races up my spine. Is this a threat or a sincere apology? He wouldn’t dare try to hurt Callan. Would he?
Me: Lose this number.
Michael: Tit for tat. I hurt you. You hurt me.
A picture message of his upper torso follows, the stitches in his shoulder red and angry. Good. Asshole. The marks he left on me will heal. The wound I inflicted on him will scar as a constant reminder he fucked with the wrong girl.
I block his number then flit my thumbs over the keyboard, typing a message to Rogue.
Me: I’m ready to go. Meet me in the garage.
Putting my SUV in park, I tap the GPS, making sure it didn’t have a stroke and lead us to our deaths. “This doesn’t seem right.” I scrunch my nose, peering out at the abandoned-looking shack surrounded by trash and old rusting cars in the middle of butt-fuck-nowhere. “I’ve seen this movie. We get raped by mutant inbred people.” I shudder.
“He wouldn’t risk meeting somewhere he can be seen.” Rogue nibbles on her lip, staring at the unstable wooden structure. I hope she doesn’t want me to go in there.
“Why are you so nervous?” She often talks about this man being like a father to her, and there’s always love and tenderness in the stories she shares.
Rubbing her hands down her thighs, she shrugs. “I don’t know. What do you think he wants to talk about?”
“No doubt it’s about him boning your mom the entire time they’ve been traveling,” I offer with a wicked smile.
“Ew. Thanks for that.”
“You think you won’t still be fucking my brother like a bitch in heat in your fifties?” I scoff. I plan to still be fucking all the way to my deathbed. It’s the only thing that’s free and enjoyable in this fucked up world.
Silence fills the small space as she stares out the windshield. “What if it’s about the Devils or Harley?”
“You won’t know until you go find out, and I’m going to be right there with you.” I pat her knee and open my door, rounding to her side to help her out.
“This place is grim.” She winces, taking in the mud path scattered with cartons and crushed boxes. Light streaks through the branches of the trees, but it doesn’t seem to reach the hut.
“If we don’t get murdered by hill people, we might get eaten by rats.” I squeal, shaking my leg when one runs over my boot. Clinging to each other in disgust and fright, we screech in unison when a meaty hand lands on both our shoulders.
“You used to have better survival instincts,” a brute announces, his size casting a shadow over us. “Have those Kings made you soft?”
“Bear,” Rogue breathes out, her smile reaching all the way to her eyes.
Lifting her into his embrace, she practically disappears in his giant arms. He watches me over her shoulder with suspicious eyes.
I’m not the one luring women into derelict huts, asshole.
“Bear, I presume.” I nod, kicking the crap away from me. Releasing Rogue, he tilts his head, studying me. “I’m Kitty,” I add.
“I told you to come alone,” he says to Rogue without removing his eyes from mine.
“I know, but Kitty’s my person. I needed her.”
“She’s Jericho Cox’s daughter,” he grunts. There’s no menace in his tone, just stating matter of fact.
“I’m also a Virgo, a badass, and bored, to be frank.” I blow out a breath and worry I’m going to inhale something toxic. “Is there a reason you wanted to meet at the dump?”
“She has fire, like you.” Bear chuckles. “What happened?” He swipes a finger along the scruff on his face, referring to Michael’s imprints on my jaw.
“None of your fucking business, stranger,” I retort in full bitch mode, smiling sickly sweet.
“Fair enough.”
Looking around him, Rogue asks, “Where’s mom?”
“She’s a little walk down the way.” He nods in the direction of a cluster of trees.
“Are you staying here?” she asks, confusion and horror pinching her features.
“Fuck no. It’s just a place no one comes to anymore.”
“For good reason.” I gag when a rustling movement shifts more trash closer to the house.
“Come on,” he grunts.
Following him through a cut in the trees, we come out into a clearing in complete contrast to the dump we just left. Stretches of green fields filled with flowers expand along a dirt path overgrown with brush trodden down by people walking here. It’s pretty.