Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 176012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 176012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
I still want my panties ripped off and everything else, and he’s running out of time.
He rips the sheet out of the notebook, folds it, and stuffs it into his pocket as if I’m going to forget what’s on it. He whips open the door, glancing back at me, his eyes softening.
“Lock the door…” he says.
…baby. Just say it. Lock the door, baby.
The pulse in my neck hammers against my skin, sweat cooling my back.
But he leaves, closing the door tightly behind him, and I throw my blouse.
Son of a bitch.
I pull his shirt over my head, his scent covering my body as I walk to the door and lock it. Goosebumps spread up my arms.
The floor upstairs creaks, branches scrape against a window, and music vibrates across the walls from outside.
“You think you have everything under control,” I mouth after him as the heat between my legs makes my eyelids flutter. “We’ll see.”
Lucas
Fuck, I could be inside of her right now. Buried to the hilt in all that soft, tight skin with my mouth sucking on a body that felt like a goddamn cloud.
Her breasts, her stomach, her thighs… Smooth, like silk, and smelling better than heaven. No idea what the hell heaven smells like, but if it’s anything other than that, I don’t want it. I’ve never touched anyone who sent a simultaneous current of electricity to my dick and to my brain. I mean, what the fuck? I was jacked, and it was Quinn.
Quinn.
Just the thought of what I could be having right now—her, alone, hidden, and in my hands—brings my body temp up so high, I’m still sweating even though it’s seventy-two outside and the air conditioning is on.
What the hell am I going to do? I love her too much to just throw her down like she’s anyone else. I would open a vein if she needed me to.
But I can’t make love to her. I’ll lose her completely then.
Kicking the car into a higher gear, I race through the night, away from her, like I have a monkey on my back. And I go to the one place that will recalibrate my perspective.
The train tunnel, Hugo had said.
Images had flooded back when he said it, and I suddenly saw myself there all those years ago. Outside my body. Hazy, like everything was that night, because all I’d felt was small. Something small inside of a man’s body, hidden deep in a head that I didn’t recognize anymore.
It was as if I was looking through my own eyes with binoculars from far away.
How the hell did I forget about the tunnel?
I knew that the body was in the forest off the highway.
I even remembered it was before Camp Blackhawk, not after.
But I wasn’t aware of much else that night.
Parking, I walk, rain pummeling my bare shoulders and chest. I stare down at the old leaves covering the dark earth as I drift and drag my hand over the smooth stone.
Leave, Drew had said. Or I’ll have twenty people back me up when I tell the cops what you did. And Madoc Caruthers will ruin his reputation, buried in a legal battle for you for the next five years.
Gazing down at the soft mound of earth, I ball my fists to stop them from shaking. “I’m sorry.”
My chin trembles and tears fill my eyes.
“I did the right thing,” I whisper, rain spilling off my lips. “I couldn’t do anything fucking good back then, but I could protect them.”
Who knows what Drew would’ve done to target the Trents and Caruthers? He had a fucking gang.
But in my heart, I wanted to run. It was easier than having to face anyone who loved me. My mom and what she’d already been through, losing my father, and Madoc and Fallon and their world of everything so beautiful and perfect.
I was sick. I hated myself.
However, there’s nothing noble in letting a soul rot in a grave no one will ever visit.
Quinn deserves better than me.
I gave up everything, so I wouldn’t have to do the hardest thing. What a piece of shit…
I leave the grave and climb back into my car, racing through Shelburne Falls and back to Quinn’s parents’ house.
Closing the garage, I shut off the light and step into the house, locking the door behind me. I kick off my muddy shoes and throw them in the mudroom sink. I should grab a towel to dry off my chest and back, but my ire is still up, and it’s cooling me down.
Climbing the back stairs, I head to the guest room, close the door, and sit on the edge of the bed.
“What the fuck am I gonna do?” I mouth to myself.
What if Isobel doesn’t come up with anything in her research? I have her scouring for any info on the Trents and Caruthers, so I can be ahead of it if Hugo has an ace up his sleeve. Not that I think Jared, Jax, or Madoc have anything to hide, but it’s best to be sure.