Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 80507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Tears rolled down her pretty cheeks as she sat trembling in her small spot on the couch. I’d never seen her so disheveled, I’d never seen her so scared.
And what was worse?
The light I’d so often seen in her, the one I’d treasured, the one I’d thought holy and sacred… was gone.
Vanished like the mist.
That fucker had blown it out.
How had this gone so wrong?
I crouched down on my haunches, my Glock in my shaking left hand at my side as I reached up my right hand and gripped her chin, turning her head from side to side. “Are. You. Hurt?”
She wouldn’t meet my eyes; I made her, not out of anger but out of fucking need to know she would be okay. I needed it more than air, more than my own soul. I needed her to be okay.
I wouldn’t survive anything but.
Finally, my girl lifted her eyes to mine.
I would rather suffer a million cuts.
A thousand tortures.
Dying over and over again only to be resurrected and killed again, then see the look she had on her face.
“No,” she finally whispered, “I’m not hurt.”
I didn’t release her chin right away; instead, my thumb caressed down her jaw as I promised, “I won’t kill him, you have my word, but he needs to be punished for thinking he can touch you in any way that hurts you.”
I released her then.
She looked down at the hardwood floor.
With a curse, I stood and stomped out of the house in a frenzy of rage, and I hopped in my car. I jammed my foot on the accelerator so hard my leg hurt.
It took me less than nine minutes to make it to their house and see that the lights were off, and his Mercedes wasn’t parked out front.
“Where are you…?” I mumbled to myself, recalling the conversation she’d had with her father.
He’d been drunk.
She’d thrown out all the alcohol.
A bar?
The one shit hole that was closest to this neighborhood, our bar, the one that held all our good memories. I didn’t want to accidentally kill him during happy hour for being a jackass, and that was bound to happen if he opened his mouth.
I sped off, continuing to see visions of Eden’s tear-stained face, getting more pissed as I drove, and before I knew it, I was in front of the old dive bar staring down Tristian’s black Mercedes and plotting pain.
I killed the engine, got out, and slowly walked along the perimeter of his car, my knife held in my right hand as I drew a nice line into the expensive paint.
Piece of shit.
When I was done, I folded the knife and shoved it in my pocket. People were scattered outside smoking, groping. I sneered and yanked open the heavy wooden door.
Tristian was at the bar with a familiar face.
A woman.
Their heads were too close together.
Their lips even closer.
Tristian was clearly drunk off his ass, but even drunk, he knew better. He leaned toward her and placed a hand over hers.
She stood, murmuring something in his ear while he slid a hand down her lower back, pulling her between his thighs. He briefly expressed something and sent her on her way.
With a curse, I made my way through the crowd and sat on the empty stool next to him. “Playing with fire.”
Tristian did a slow double take and downed the glass of whiskey. “Mind your own fucking business.”
“You know the rules, brother,” I practically spat out the word; what weight did it even carry anymore? “No touching another man’s wife, no looking, and definitely no abuse of your own.”
The woman he had just been with started back toward him again, her eyes zeroed in on Tristian like a fucking snack.
“No.” I held up my hand. “Turn your ass around and go sit the fuck down.”
She gasped while Tristian shot to his feet and swayed a bit. “You can’t say that to her!”
She had brass balls; I’d give her that. She stepped forward, falling into my arms like she was a damsel in distress. I didn’t fall for her bullshit, shoving her away.
I sneered, “You disgust me. You’re defending that woman. And yet your wife flees her own home in fear? Are you fucking kidding me right now?” I shoved his chest. “Now sit your ass down before I do it for you!”
“She’s not yours to protect, brother.” He lifted a finger to order another shot. “Remember who she married.”
“I protect family. And in a way, I’m protecting you. Fuck this up, and it’s going to be your head rolling down the street. You’re lucky I’m here, not her father, not Andrei, not our father! You’re breaking all sorts of rules, which means… there will be consequences.”
He gave me a sideways glance and tried to bolt in the other direction, but he was slower than hell. I grabbed him by the back of his shirt, then picked him up and slammed him against the bar top. Glass went flying around us, and people immediately scattered.