Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
I swallow back the panic that’s threatening to choke me and ask, “What did he say?”
“Told me ye’re welcome anytime. There’s a spare room at the clubhouse, and Miren is excited to have another lass there. She’ll take care of ye. Ye’ll be safe. No one will touch ye,” he informs me with confidence.
He takes a step closer to me, his height looming over me, cocooning me with warmth. The lump of fear in my throat threatens to choke me. I haven’t been this physically close to a man in a while. I’m not sure I’m happy with it, but he doesn’t hurt me. He won’t. It’s something I’m sure of without a doubt. He reaches out a large hand, which I flinch at. I want to cower, but I grit my teeth and stand still.
“I won’t hurt ye,” he offers in a whisper drenched in promise.
“Nobody can promise not to hurt another person,” I bite out as his knuckles find my cheek.
The gesture is slight. He caresses the skin, causing goose bumps to erupt all over me. I want so much for him to kiss me, to offer me solace. But fear strikes when his fingers brush over an invisible bruise. It was there once upon a time. I remember it like it was yesterday, and it causes me to jolt backward.
“I’m sorry.” Those two words fall from his lips with more sadness that I’ve ever heard. They’re not lies Rogan used to spew. No, these are words of pure remorse and regret.
Looking into Sully’s brown eyes, I see it. Everything he wants to offer me dances in those dark orbs. He’s not angry—he’s merely regretful I don’t trust him.
“I’m not him. I never could be, because I saw my ma at the hands of a man like that. I hated him with my very bein’, and I killed him when I turned fourteen.”
I’m so shocked at his confession that I’m left speechless.
“I know what ye feel—the fear, the anger, the distrust.” He shakes his head solemnly, then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small piece of paper. “If ye ever change yer mind or feel like ye can finally move forward,” he offers, handing me the note, “ye’ll find the answer in there.”
My fingers tremble when I reach for it. The contact of his skin on mine sends a jolt of want coursing through my veins. Hot and needy. I want to say yes, but I don’t.
He stares at me with a smolder on his face, and I know if I went with him right now, I might never survive. Not because he’ll hurt my body, but because I could fall in love with him.
“Thank you.” My voice finally sounds, and it’s croaky, sadness lacing my words.
He doesn’t respond for a moment. The silence threatens to engulf me, then he meets my eyes with his. “I’ll be around. Remember, Clover, if ye ever decide to call, I’ll come runnin’. I’ll find ye again, because I want to.”
“I—”
“I’ve never missed someone by standin’ in front of them, Clover, but with ye, I do. Take care,” he tells me with blatant honesty.
He turns and saunters down the hallway, leaving me blinking back tears. I stand there for a moment, unsure what to do or what to say. I open the note, and my heart catapults in my chest.
Clover, I’m feckin’ scared to want ye as much as I do. But that doesn’t stop me. I want ye anyway. 07883 592 811 - Sully
I grab my small notebook and scribble my response. Then racing out of my room, pulling the door shut behind me, I make my way down the steps, taking two at a time. When I reach the ground floor, I find them just leaving through the two large doors at the main entrance.
He turns to look at me, his eyes filled with hope, and I pray my note offers him that. We don’t speak as I reach for his hand, placing the small, torn piece of paper into the large palm that seems to be the only place besides his face that isn’t filled with ink.
I meet his gaze, offering a small smile, then a nod.
And as I watch him walk toward the bike sitting in the parking lot, I want to tell him to come back for me, but I know I can’t offer him what he so clearly wants. There’s something between us, which I feel. It’s something solid, as if I can reach out and touch it, touch him, but I’m still too afraid of what would happen if I let myself feel again.
As Sully swings his leg over the bike, I watch his head tip my way for a moment. Our eyes lock then. We’re in a stand-off, and there’s nothing more I can do. I can’t promise him I’ll go to him, and he can’t promise to wait for me.