Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 79007 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79007 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
"It's okay," he said, arms giving me an even tighter squeeze when I let out some strange, foreign, strobe-like whimper thing that I didn't even know I was capable of until that moment. It was almost like a gasp and cry hybrid that was utterly telling, and maybe a bit embarrassing. "I'm alright, angel," he added, one of his hands anchoring across my lower back as the other started running the length of my spine like it had the night before, when I found myself in a very similar position.
"I called," I managed, even though my air felt constricted in my chest given how tightly I was still holding on.
"I fucking left it in Reeve's truck," he explained, hand still running up and down, but on the next turn, his fingers went all the way up, not stopping at the base of my neck, but caressing up it, slipping into the very edge of my hair, making a sweet shiver course through my insides before it retreated and moved downward again. "He took off with the other guys to, ah, deal with some shit. I haven't been able to get it back since. I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd think..."
"Of course you should have thought that she would think," Daya cut in, and I could practically hear the eye-roll in her words. "She hears on the news about a shooting at the compound with one dead, then she can't get in touch with you? God, you bikers can be so dense," she added, mumbling to herself, but doing it loudly enough so that Cyrus could hear her clear annoyance in him.
Daya, it seemed, was just that kind of woman. Like Kenzi and Alex - not afraid to speak her mind. Not afraid of confrontation.
"Baby, breathe," Cyrus commanded softly, making another of those shiver things happen. The 'baby' thing was proving, um, effective. Though I wasn't sure he meant anything by it at all. At least anything more than he meant when he said 'angel' or 'sweets' or whatever.
I slowly pulled in air through my nose, the burning it caused in my chest proving that he was right, I hadn't been breathing.
"So if it wasn't you," Daya's voice called, "who was it?"
"None of our guys," Cyrus said as I self-consciously released him, and moved to step back. Though, maybe my hands kind of slid over his shoulders, then the tops of his chest before leaving him completely. "Summer's dad seemed to be the target."
"Summer's dad..." Daya prompted.
"Richard Lyon. Big cocaine kingpin."
"Aw, that sucks. Poor Summer," Daya commented as she began wiping down the counter.
"Is she okay?" I asked, not knowing her personally, but having heard Cyrus speak of her fondly.
"No," he answered honestly, giving me a sad look. "She's just... completely broken, to be honest. Reign doesn't know what to do to get through to her. Edison called in the girls club, but even they can't really do anything but watch the kids, and deal with the arrangements, and try to get her to eat or sleep."
"Do you maybe..." I started, not sure what to say. "Should you be with them right now?" I asked, knowing the MC was like his family to him, knowing they had bonds that went as deep as any blood family. Heck, maybe even deeper in some ways.
"I think I'm right where I should be," he countered, giving me a somewhat tired smile.
I wasn't certain, but I was pretty sure I heard Daya mumble something like - You're goddamned right, you're right where you should be - as she turned her back, and started taking the lids off the containers of various toppers for the ice cream.
"You look tired," I offered dumbly, grasping for any thread of conversation.
"I am tired," he agreed, shrugging. "But I want to be here more than I want to be in my bed. You want ice cream?"
I nodded immediately, the churning sensation in my stomach reminding me that I hadn't eaten anything for breakfast.
And I hadn't even had any coffee to stave off the cravings either.
"Then maybe coffee?" I asked. "I, um, knocked into my cup after I heard the news."
"What? Ree without her morning blueberry coffee? We can't be having that," he announced, dropping an arm across my shoulders like he often did, and I felt myself smile even though a part of me wished it was another hug instead.
That part of me really, really need to shut up.
So then we had ice cream.
And we walked down the street to She's Bean Around, neither of us doing much talking, each of us lost in our own thoughts.
Cyrus made small talk with Jazzy and Gala, who both proclaimed that it was good that it wasn't him who got, and I quote, "capped" because it would have been a waste of a very nice beard.