Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 122242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
"She didn't like me much," I mutter, being as evasive as possible. "Can we talk about something else, please? This doesn't have anything to do with Nikolai Tarasova."
"¡Me cago en la hostia!" he swears violently, making me jump. He stomps in my direction, stopping directly in front of me. When I still refuse to look up at him, he drops to his knees, leaving me no choice. "Look at me, Faith," he commands softly.
I reluctantly lift my gaze to his, unable to refuse.
His face is a thundercloud, storm clouds roiling in his eyes. "I know you don't want to talk about this, but I need to know. Did your mom hurt you, angel?" he asks, his voice far more gentle than his fierce expression.
"I…" I lick my lips and then nod.
"She abused you."
It's not a question, but I nod anyway.
His eyes fall closed, making it impossible to see what he's thinking. He barely even seems to breathe as he kneels in front of me, his eyes closed and his entire body rigid.
"It was a long time ago," I mumble. "She wasn't so bad when she was sober." Most of the time, she left me alone. But when she drank, she'd fly into rages. Everything I did was wrong. Every word I said was an affront. I tried so hard to be good and stay out of her way, but I never measured up.
I still don't understand what I did to make her hate me so much.
Octavio's eyes pop open. "Don't," he says, glaring at me. "Don't you dare try to make excuses for her, conejita. She was supposed to protect you, and she didn't. She hurt you. You are not to blame for that. You did nothing to deserve it. Understand?"
"Okay," I whisper, blinking rapidly when tears fill my eyes again.
He watches me for a moment, his expression fierce and gentle at the same time. "I'm not going to let anyone else hurt you, Faith."
I clear my throat and scoot backward a few inches, putting space between us. My heart hammers against my ribcage, pounding uncomfortably. I break his gaze, glancing back down at the floor. I think he means it. I appreciate him for saying it…I even want to believe him, but I can't. No one has ever kept a promise to me before now. Trusting people never ends well for me or for them. I learned a long time ago that giving anyone that much power over me was just asking for trouble. And I have more than enough of that without adding this handsome detective to the load.
"Like I said, it was a long time ago, Detective Hernandez."
"Octavio."
I blink at him.
"My name is Octavio. Say it, conejita."
I ignore his demand, refusing to go there with him. I'm already far too attracted to him. The last thing I need to do is blur the lines between us. He won't be around for long. If I soften toward him now, I'll be the one who ends up hurt, not him. "I'm not a rabbit, Detective Hernandez."
His lips twitch, amusement and frustration dancing in his gaze. "Oh, but you are, little Faith."
I scowl at him, fighting the urge to shiver at the way he says my name. It sounds so nice on his lips. Sexy almost…but I've never been that. I'm too skinny, with ugly scars all over my body. I don't think he'd look at me the same if he actually saw them.
When I was younger, I hated that I was overweight. I would have given anything back then to be skinnier. I just never imagined my wish would come at such a high price. Starvation isn't a good look on anyone. I miss looking in a mirror and feeling…normal.
His expression changes as we stare at each other, his eyes darkening until they're almost black. He's even more gorgeous than usual when he looks at me like he is right now…like he wants to touch me.
It scares me just how normal he makes me feel sometimes.
"What's going to happen to Ilya and his bar?" I blurt out, desperately trying to focus on something other than the thrill of desire his dark gaze sends thrumming through me.
"Does it matter?" One dark brow shoots upward.
"The only thing I had that was mine was my job at his bar. Nikolai wouldn't let him pay me, but so long as I was there, they didn't bother me. I was safe at Ilya's until their war took that away. Everything they touch turns to poison."
"Faith–"
"I want something in exchange for helping you."
He eyes me like he's surprised.
"Promise me Ilya won't get in trouble for what happened. It's not his fault their war spilled over into his bar. He's just trying to survive in their territory like everyone else."
"He was nice to you?"
I shrug noncommittally. "Ilya isn't nice to anyone, Detective."