Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 61149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
He wants her. They have her.
One unbreakable female fighting for her life.
Two protective, small-town best friends willing to burn the world down for the woman they love.
Three people unafraid to show the big, bad monster banging around in their backyard that this ends here.
This ends now.
TROPE
MMF Romance
Dark Romance
Age-Gap Romance
Possessive Alphas
Woman in Peril
*This is book 3 and CANNOT be read on its own.
*This content is intended for ADULTS (18+) and DARK ROMANCE fans only
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Chapter 1
Bunny
I love the pens The Kid buys.
I don’t know how, but he always manages to grab the perfect pack.
Like I don’t think he’s ever bought a dull set.
And the thing I love even more than him magically buying the best group on any shelf?
The fact that he always, always keeps a couple in his car for me.
Which says a shit ton considering how meticulously clean and put together he keeps this shit.
One is kept in the glove compartment, and one is kept in the cup holder of the passenger side.
And that matters.
That matters because only certain shit can be on the driver’s side of the vehicle.
I say driver’s side when I really just mean his side because he doesn’t let anyone else drive Miss X here if he can help it.
Yeah…
Not only does his precious car have a name, she – because all cars are she, meant to be pampered and spoiled – is named after the article that more or less inspired the first film in his favorite franchise.
Gahhhh, I cannot wait for him to open that Christmas gift.
Or at the very least stop guessing what it is.
He’s totally been a “kid” since he saw me put it under our red and white decorated tree.
In one column, I think it’s just him being adorable.
Excited.
Nosey.
Impatient.
In the other?
I think he’s continuously playing the “what is it game” to distract him from the Nightmare Before Christmas horror show we witnessed a few days ago right here near the population sign.
I’d honestly love the Christmas miracle of not having to deal with Brad again until after the holidays.
However, this isn’t a made for streaming movie.
I highly doubt we’ll get that lucky.
Glancing up and out of the windshield is accompanied by me leaning slightly over to see what progress – if any – has been made.
I mean, come on.
He’s at least woken up by now, right?
Although, if he had, why hasn’t Mutt peered around this way and waved.
Or kicked his chin.
Or grabbed his crotch to remind me where it is he’d like me to always be sitting.
Maybe I should’ve gotten him a lump of chocolate coal for his stocking to remind him of how much misbehaving he tends to do on a daily basis.
Curiosity prompts me to stretch further to get a view of them yet reveals to me the opposite.
No Kid.
No Mutt.
Just the cans.
Wait.
Just the cans?
Unexpected dread instantly drops into the pit of my stomach at the same time all of the air in my lungs vanishes.
Shit.
Was this whole thing a setup?
Did we just drive straight into some sort of trap?!
Should I get out?!
Should I go check?!
Get a closer look at everything?!
One hand reaches for the handle, yet instinct paralyzes me in place.
No.
Getting out would be a mistake.
Make me more vulnerable to…whatever…or more likely whoever is most likely waiting.
Or lurking.
Angling myself further into The Kid’s seat to get a better view of the seemingly deserted situation causes my heart to pound so hard that sucking in a full breath is practically impossible.
I’m being paranoid.
That’s what Brad wants.
He wants me to feel powerless.
And terrified.
Chances are I’m just overreacting.
Fuck, I hope I’m just overreacting.
That they’re around the front of the truck checking under its hood.
Or each other’s.
Elfonashelf, pleaseeeeeee let them be doing something so indecent that it gets them kicked off the naughty list and into the not even on your death bed can you apply to get coal column.
Movement finally begins in the distance; however, I instantly find myself wishing it didn’t.
Wishing time would actually freeze.
Hold completely still.
Give me one more second to appreciate what we have versus what I’m afraid I’m about to lose.
Brad’s menacingly slow stroll provides more than enough time for me to drink in the walking, talking, stalking, nightmare that he is in his fullest form.
God, I’d almost forgotten what he looks like.
How painfully tight his yellow beige skin is from being nipped and tucked and picked and plucked just like his mother.
His mother who never misses a chance to dote on the perfection she created.
Nurtured.
Built.
Molded into the man she wanted.
Had to have.
I sneer at the oversized forehead that he attempts to distract a person from with the way he swoops his bright blond hair to the right, another feature she passed along since his father is a dark brunette.
She also gave him his long, goose style neck and slim yet solid frame.
For the expense report?
He doesn’t look like much to fear from a glance.
Actually, he looks exactly like the opposite.
Like he’s here to rescue you.
Save you from someone.
Everyone.
Maybe even from yourself.
Like he’s dropping everything in the world to put you on a pedestal and treasure you until your dying day.
Except…if you stare into his soulless blue eyes, you’ll see he’s the one that wants to be responsible for when that day arrives.
And if you keep peering, you’ll see that’s not a pedestal, but a prison.