Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 83800 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83800 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
"Back to the villa," Ellis answers.
My first instinct is to argue with him and insist on them taking me back to my place, but my fear wins out. I know I'd be miserable there, and there's no sense in pretending I wouldn't be.
"Okay," I say, my voice a little weak and soft.
Ellis holds me tighter when I begin to tremble as the elevator makes its descension. The closer we get to the garage-level parking, the more fearful I grow, but when the doors open, there's no one there to ambush me and rip me from his arms.
We get looks from several people, because even in Vegas it's not every day that you see three commandos walking out of a hotel.
Ellis helps me into the back seat of the SUV, pulling my seatbelt around my waist before walking around and climbing in beside me. Whiskey gets in behind the wheel and Twisted takes the passenger seat.
"What about Bandera?" I ask when the SUV is cranked and immediately put into gear to carry us away.
"He's going to deal with the police," Ellis says.
The remainder of the drive is spent in complete silence. There isn't even a hint of music coming from the speakers, and by the time I'm debating whether it's a good thing or a bad thing, we're pausing at the gate outside of the villa.
"Good," Ellis says, pulling me from my own thoughts.
I look up and see Robert standing near the garage. I had wondered if he was going to stay in his office and wait to see if I was going to find him later. I didn't know how I was going to handle the whole situation.
Tears well in my eyes the second he steps forward and opens my door.
Rather than having a conversation as his eyes search mine, he simply reaches inside, unclips my seatbelt, and pulls me into his arms. He carries me inside with ease, the stairs not even winding him under my weight. I sob even harder when he bypasses the room I had been staying in and carries me into his room, gently kicking the door closed and sealing us inside alone.
"Robert," I whisper when he sets me down on my feet. "I'm—"
"Shhh," he says, brushing a kiss on my temple. "Let me check you."
I look up at the ceiling as he runs his hands over my arms and turns my head slightly as if looking for bruising on my neck before pinching my chin between his fingers and urging me to look him in the eyes.
"What happened?"
I shake my head, not wanting to make the confessions that I know will have him running for the door. I don't want him to know how easily I was duped by his brother.
"Please tell me," he says, his voice straining and full of bottled emotions.
"I thought it was you," I whisper.
"I know. Tell me what happened."
I swallow, searching his eyes, inwardly praying that he won't hate me after I make these confessions.
"I kissed him."
He nods, swallowing, his hands running up and down my arms in a predictable and comforting pattern.
"He touched me."
"Where?" he asks, pain lacing his tone.
"I thought he was you," I repeat, tears streaming down my cheeks.
"You did absolutely nothing wrong, baby. Hear me when I say that, please."
"He put his fingers inside of me," I spit on a sob that racks my entire body.
He pulls me to his chest, and I don't hesitate to bury my nose in his shirt, the scent of him familiar and healing.
"I'll fucking kill him myself."
He holds me to him, squeezing me harder when I wrap my arms around his waist and cry in his arms.
"I'm so sorry for the things he’s done to you, to us, and for the damage he’s caused. I can only imagine you wish you'd never met me."
I pull my head back, angling my chin up so I can look into his eyes, getting a little lost in his touch when he pushes a lock of hair behind my ear.
"I thought you'd hate me for what I let happen," I whisper.
"Hate you? Never, Morgan. He hurt you. That's on him, not on you. And to make things fucking worse," he says. "I hurt you."
I shake my head. "He hurt us. That's the only way I can look at it. I'm so sorry."
"He's my brother. I'm the one who is sorry."
"How about no more apologies for things we can't control," I offer as I lift my hand and swipe at the tears that continue to roll down my face.
"I'd like that," he says, capturing my hand and bringing it to his mouth.
"I can't believe he was able to fool me," I whisper, pressing my palm to his cheek. "The two of you couldn't be any more different."
"If we're lucky, we'll never have to worry about him again."