Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 170878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 854(@200wpm)___ 684(@250wpm)___ 570(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 170878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 854(@200wpm)___ 684(@250wpm)___ 570(@300wpm)
Out of instinct, I coiled to protect myself from another male threat. I was no longer there in Jupiter; I was in a trailer with Waylon, glass raining down on me. I was thirteen years old, my mother’s boyfriend screaming at me.
Rowan slowed his gait, holding up his hands in surrender.
“Just gonna check on you.” He spoke slowly, low. Nonthreatening.
Except he was. Threatening. He was exceptionally tall. He had broad shoulders. Muscles. Fists that could knock a man unconscious.
“Tilt your head back,” he instructed softly, stopping a safe distance from me.
With my nose throbbing, I did as he said, heart still racing, trying to convince myself I was okay.
“You’re safe,” Rowan murmured, watching me.
I nodded, thankful for the firm words, for the distance he kept.
Then came the rush of police and EMTs. Finn first, springing through the bakery, barely even looking at the man on the floor who had begun to groan.
Standing beside me, Lori gasped at the sound, grabbing my arm. I patted her hand.
Rowan jerked, looking over his shoulder. “I’ll take care of that, you let the EMTs take care of you.”
I gave him a vague little nod, the best I could with my head tipped back.
Luckily, the bleeding stopped once the EMTs checked me out, and the ringing in my head subsided.
They kept me seated, which I was grateful for because I didn’t know if I could stand up without the world spinning. Luckily, Jacob was taken away before Rowan could get his hands back on him.
The chief of police didn’t even glance at the man responsible for the assault and the drama; he only had eyes for one person.
Finn was kneeling in front of Lori, hands on either side of her neck, murmuring something I couldn’t hear. He didn’t look happy. He looked immensely worried. I was sure I heard the word “fuck” a lot, and the soft hum of Lori’s voice didn’t seem to indicate that she was feeling any better about what just happened.
She was in good hands. The same paramedic who stitched me up from the car accident was here to tend to my nose.
Not broken. Luckily. But it was going to hurt like a son of a bitch and leave one heck of a bruise, the EMT told me. He offered me a ride to the hospital. I said no, not just because I couldn’t afford it but also because I knew I didn’t need it. Though I was tempted on the off chance they might’ve offered me some strong drugs.
It already hurt like hell.
I sighed. Word would get around quickly, so I had a phone call to make. Beau knew I was here with Lori, and he hadn’t come roaring up in his truck, which meant he hadn’t heard from someone else. Yet.
I wanted to call him the second it happened. It was shameful, but the moment Jacob came in and I sensed that he was dangerous, fear chewed at my gut, wanting Beau. And the second the pain erupted in my face, I wanted Beau.
He was quickly becoming my stability, my emergency contact.
My heart calmed at his soft greeting. “Baby.”
“I need you not to freak out,” was my only greeting to Beau. I tried to keep my voice even, but it was slightly garbled from the pain, the swelling in my nose.
“What the fuck happened, and where the fuck are you?” he demanded, obviously noting the change in my tone.
Forgetting about my injury, I pinched the bridge of my nose, letting out a small moan of pain.
“Hannah,” he said quietly, carefully, after a beat of loaded silence on the other end of the phone. “I need to know right now. Are you physically okay? Are you safe?”
“Before I tell you, you need to not freak out,” I repeated, holding the ice the EMTs gave me back to my nose.
“Hannah, Jesus fucking Christ!” He yelled so loud, I flinched.
Even though Beau obviously didn’t see my flinch, he must’ve heard my small gasp, taking in an audible breath. “The only way I won’t freak out is if you answer the fucking question.”
“Well, I am physically safe. I’m at Nora’s bakery,” I answered cautiously, mentally wincing in preparation for him to fly off the handle.
“I’m on my way there,” Beau informed me in a clipped tone, followed by the sound of something rustling. “And you’re not physically okay.” It wasn’t a question. It was a barked statement, coated in anger if only to hide his fear.
“In the grand scheme of things, I am physically okay, I’ll heal.”
“You shouldn’t need to heal in the grand scheme of things, Hannah.” I could tell by how slowly Beau spoke that he was forcing himself to be calm. “I need to know what I’m walking into, baby,” he added more softly. “So I can prepare myself not to lose my shit when I see you, so my reaction is not something you feel you have to handle.”