Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 105065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 525(@200wpm)___ 420(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 525(@200wpm)___ 420(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Desperate for somewhere else to look, my eyes dart to his lips. It’s the wrong choice. I still remember what they felt like on mine. Soft and slightly askew, I decide that’s what gives him a boyish sort of quality. That crookedness and slight imperfection of his smile. It’s something I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget. As if he can sense my thoughts, Lachlan’s nostrils flare and his eyes swirl with a dangerous prism of colors. It’s like a jackhammer to my protective shield.
My brain is on the fritz. I know this man staring down at me is bad. So very bad. I know it’s possible he could have done this very same thing with Talia. He could have lured her in and then made her disappear when she didn’t play by his rules. Even if he didn’t, it’s likely that he knows the man who did. This mysterious Russian. They are probably friends, no doubt.
So why am I responding this way to him?
“Tell me why ye’re living here,” he says.
I pull away and attempt to regain my composure. “Okay, but stop touching me.”
“Ye don’t like it?” he asks.
It seems like a genuine question, which only confuses me more. Since when do guys like him care whether a woman likes it or not? I roll my eyes as he stands up and shoves his hands into his pockets, waiting for my reply.
“I’m just here temporarily,” I say. “Don’t want my ex to find me.”
“Roxbury isn’t exactly a long way from Southie,” Lachlan notes. “I’ve seen you fight. Ye don’t seem the type to run scared.”
Shit, he has me there.
“Well…” I hedge. “I might be from Southie, but he’s not. And he’s completely off the rails. There’s only so many times you can try to make a guy like that see reason.”
“Hmm…” He rubs his fingers over his lips. To him, this whole thing is probably quite ironic. Out of the frying pan and into the fire as they say.
“Ye won’t have to worry about him anymore, Mack.” His tone becomes serious. “Ye’re under my protection now.”
Hm, imagine that? He does have heartstrings to pull after all.
“Thanks,” I tell him. “But I don’t need your help. I can take care of myself.”
“Remember what I told you about playing by my rules?” he asks.
I bite my lip to stifle my bratty smile. “Of course. Whatever you say, Lachlan.”
“Good girl,” he says. “Now get your ass in the car. I’m taking you to supper.”
***
After hustling my ass off to finish getting ready, I walk outside to find the last thing I ever expected in the run down parking lot. A freaking Maserati.
A blue GranTurismo Sport, to be precise. I’m practically salivating at the mouth as I walk towards it with fingers poised to touch. At the last second, I snatch my hand back and I think I hear Lachlan laugh.
“Fancy that, do ye?”
“Va va voom,” I say in answer. “Any chance you’ll let me drive?”
He spins the keys around his fingers. “Not even if I was dying.”
Pfft.
He opens my door and I slide into the seat like butter. Mmm… it still has that new car smell, along with a hint of cedarwood and limes.
Lachlan gets in beside me and glances my way as he fires up the beast. I swear I almost have an orgasm just from the vibration and sounds alone. Jesus, this has definitely upped his game.
“Why don’t we skip dinner and you can just drive me around in this for the next couple of hours,” I suggest.
He whips out of the parking space and onto the street. “I have to say Mack, ye really know how to have the craic, don’t you?”
“Say what now?”
“You like the fun stuff,” he clarifies. “Fast cars and fighting…”
His words drift off abruptly, but it isn’t too hard to guess what he’s thinking about.
For a minute, as I watch him navigate the streets of Boston with smooth precision, I almost question it too. There’s just something sexy about a man who knows how to handle such a beautiful car that makes you want him. Again, I have to shake myself out of it.
Jesus, I need to get a grip. And remember what I’m doing this for. I cannot catch feelings for this asshole. I turn my attention out the window and remain quiet while he drives. When he told me he was taking me to dinner, I half expected some pub grub. But instead, we end up at an upscale restaurant in the Back Bay. Not just any restaurant, but a very well known- and Russian owned- restaurant.
I give him a sideways glance as I try to understand his motives for bringing me here. This isn’t coincidence, it’s strategy. He wants the Russians to see him here with me. But why?
I don’t have long to mull it over. He gets out of the car and I follow suit. The hostess doesn’t ask for Lachlan’s name, she knows him on sight. Two minutes later, we’re sitting in one of the best seats in the house with a personal welcome from the chef.
I know I should be using this opportunity to get a good look at some of his business associates, but I feel uncomfortable here. I’m not one to frequent restaurants like this. These were the types of places I used to pass by as a kid, staring in through the glass windows as the upper class ate their nice meals. I felt so much resentment knowing that Talia and I would either be begging or stealing for our dinner.
It hardened me. These life experiences of mine took away any fragility I may have had left. I don’t like to associate myself with these people. Even now, I still live on the fringes of society. I have a nice warm bed and food in my belly, but the resentment is still there, and I’m not sure why.
Maybe because I don’t have a place in this world. Or a family. Or anyone who cares if I go missing. Only Scarlett. And someday, she’ll probably disappear too. And then it will be just me, and I can’t even imagine how dark my world will be then.