In Silence She Screams (Midnight Mayhem #3) Read Online Amo Jones

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Erotic, New Adult, Romance, Tear Jerker Tags Authors: Series: Midnight Mayhem Series by Amo Jones
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Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 117774 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
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Yup. Definitely bigger than me.

The door opens and I drag my tired legs up the steps that lead into the main area. I pause.

“Wow.”

The walls are gloss black, with leather sofas scattered around the living area and a large (I mean massive) TV hanging on the wall. A giant chandelier dangles from the ceiling above our head, and soft lilac LED lights line the stairs, which twist up to the second level. There’s a kitchen off the sitting room, with a long rectangular dining suite and eight leather seats tucked beneath. The kitchen I can see from here is fitted with modern appliances and continues the same dark aesthetic. I turn to face Keaton but pause when I find Kyrin in the kitchen watching us. My mouth snaps closed.

“Yeah, the LED lights line the entire bus. We leave them on when we go to bed at night, so don’t freak the fuck out if you wake up and see them.” Keaton is interesting, to say the least. He has tattoos all over his skin, some demonic, some crosses, and he has dark eyes that feel empty anytime we look at each other. Yet, he’s been the nicest out of all of them to me since being here. Maybe he wants to fuck me. Everyone usually does. I hope not. Do I have to fuck people here like I did in Patience? I’m well aware of the final act in Midnight Mayhem, but I’m sure it’s all consensual. I wouldn’t care if I did. Sex has always been a transaction to me.

I shake my head out of my foggy thoughts. “Not much scares me, soldier.”

Kyrin is in the same spot, remaining quiet and motionless in the middle of the kitchen. Anytime he’s around, I get weird feelings in my gut that I don’t like. Like bat wings flapping through a vampire cave, if they get too close to you, the claws on his membrane will surely slice you open.

Kyrin pushes off the counter, slowly making his way to the front of me and between Keaton. The heat radiating off him is suffocating, so I step back slightly to gain some distance.

He chuckles, spooning whatever is in his bowl into his mouth. “Yeah, we’ll see.” He moves past and I listen as his footsteps disappear up the staircase.

“So that’s pretty much it.” Keaton claps his hands. I don’t bother telling him I wasn’t listening to his rambles. He picks up a TV remote and takes a seat on the La-Z-Boy. “You’ll get used to Kyrin.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, tilting my head.

“All his broodiness.”

I shrug. “He doesn’t bother me.”

I make my way upstairs to my bedroom, ignoring the other doors. Black painted walls, a single chandelier hanging in the middle of the ceiling, a four-post bed, and a large TV on the wall opposite the bed. I am somewhat used to this life, but the opulence of Midnight Mayhem is unmatched. Patience was never like this.

Sinking onto the mattress, I run my fingers over the covers. Feelings pass. I like it here. I don’t like it here. Will I get used to it? Does it terrify me that I will get used to it? I fall back onto the bed and close my eyes.

I will never get used to this.

Too quiet.

I shove up from the bed, sweat slicked over my skin and my heart rate quickening in my chest.

Wooden dresser, large TV, black leather bed, LED lights lining the edges of my walls.

I sigh, resting back against the headboard. It’s five a.m. on the day of the first show that I’ll be in for Midnight Mayhem. I close my eyes and breathe in and out. Slowly, I feel my muscles release the tension they worked into from my dream. I open my eyes to Eli, who is leaning against the doorframe with nothing but his boxer briefs on, his hair messy all over his head, and his eyes barely open.

“Fuck, Lilith. What the fuck was that?”

When I don’t answer, he yawns, stretching his arms up high and resting them above his head against the doorframe. He cocks his head to the side, and my eyes land on the vein that’s pulsing beneath the skin on his neck. He has tattoos in various places, none of which I can make out from here, but his body… his body is lean and strong, and heavily worked on. His tongue snakes out and dampens his bottom lip, and I narrow my attention to the ring I saw against the light. He has high cheekbones and features I would say are pretty. Almost too pretty. He has soft, tanned skin, almond eyes that seem to light up whenever something passes his mind, and lips I could imagine sucking poison from.

Fuck. He’s attractive. That’s not going to be very helpful to me.



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