Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 101911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
He runs his fingers through my newly dyed-blonde hair, eyeing it like he doesn’t know what to think about it.
“Yes. And the costs are about to go down, along with some of the risks. I’m deploying the new vehicles in two days. It’ll speed up the overall process of getting the girls home,” I go on.
“We hope,” Ezekiel adds. “Don’t get too excited until it proves its worth.”
Axle flips the phone the bird, and I bite back a laugh.
“Two days,” Ingrid says again.
“Until then,” I say, moving past Axle and to the phone, ending the call.
When I turn around, Axle has his arms crossed over his chest. “You ready to see what you spent a small fortune on?”
I nod, trying to play it cool, but desperate to see what they’ve been working on all this time. Understandably, I’m not allowed in their secret work space, so I haven’t even gotten to peek at the progress as it’s happened.
“But first tell me what you think,” I say, twirling and fluffing my hair like I’m in a shampoo commercial.
“I think it’s really blonde and I don’t know why you did it.”
I arch an eyebrow at him. “Because I’m less obvious with blonde hair, since I’ve had dark hair my entire life. It’ll be a little harder for Lathan to notice me if I’m out for any reason. It’s really nice to tell a girl ‘it’s pretty’ when she asks for your opinion.”
His lips twitch. “Blonde looks good on you,” he finally concedes, and I glide over to where he is.
He tugs me to him, and then opens the door. It’s hard to think when he’s pressed against me, but he releases me and we start walking out.
“They want you back in New York?” he asks quietly, probably deciphering that conversation now.
“Of course. But I’m not going back just yet.”
He nods slowly. “But you will be going back.”
I’m not sure if he’s asking me or telling me, to be honest.
“My physical presence in New York would be good on occasion, but it’s not a mandatory or even a necessary thing. Ezekiel and Ingrid are just worried and tired. It’s been a rough couple of years on us.”
We reach the bottom of the stairs, and I frown when he doesn’t move his gaze to mine or touch me.
“Ezekiel and you close?” he asks.
Totally jealous, and that makes me smile like a fool. “Not like that. Like I said, we all grew up together, with the exception of Sarah, so there’s a true familial bond there. Our parents wanted that bond forged early, so when we one day would have to take over, we’d look out for each other. As I’ve mentioned before, we’re not monsters. We’re just warped versions of normal people.”
He still doesn’t look at me, and he pockets his hands, which tells me he has no intentions of touching me.
“If you stay here, then you’re tucked away, out of sight, all day, every day.”
I say nothing to that, because I feel like I know where he’s going with this.
He continues, his eyes still averting mine. “If you go home, you can be out and about with your life.”
“No, I’d be dead. Lathan is scouring New York for me. Or he has men scouring New York for me.”
“What if he tells them your identity?” he asks me, his eyes finally meeting mine.
There’s something there—concern, maybe.
“Can’t. I think I’ve already told you he has as much to lose from that confession as I do. The Families have a large number of enemies. If he outs me as Blackbird, then he outs his own affiliation, if anyone even believed him. Same for Jenkins. He’d rather not have that hell rain down for him. That alone would be a death sentence from the powerful enemies our Families collected over the years.”
His lips tighten as he looks ahead.
“What’s going on in your head?” I ask him as we move toward the second garage they keep locked.
“Trying to figure out what’s best for you, but also wondering if I’m just being selfish for wanting to keep you here,” he confesses.
My grin grows involuntarily, and I stop walking. He realizes I’m not following him and turns to face me, his brow pinching like he’s confused. Happens a lot around me.
“What?”
“Sounds like you might actually like me, Axle. Must be the blowjobs I’ve been giving.”
He rolls his eyes. “If I didn’t like you, you wouldn’t be in my bed.”
I move to his side, wondering how much freedom I have with his body. Usually I’m careful to always let him initiate physical contact. Even though he’s never acted bothered by my touch since we started having sex, Sarah’s warning is always in the back of my mind, and I try to respect his needs.
When my hands open on his chest and slide up to the back of his neck, he simply watches me, not tensing or acting as though my touch is unwanted.