Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36890 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 184(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36890 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 184(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
“Kerrigan,” I rasped, filled with both dread and relief. She was safe.
But the fear I saw in her pretty green eyes ripped my heart to shreds.
13
KERRIGAN
Iwas shaking. Not from fear. At least, not the kind I’d ever experienced before.
This was something different. Deeper.
Maybe terror mixed with relief.
The danger had passed. I was safe. I had survived my kidnapping. But my heart hadn’t caught up yet. It still thundered in my chest, pounding against my ribs as though it was trying to escape what I’d just witnessed.
The world around me was a blur of gunfire and shouting. But through it all, there was one constant—Aston.
He stood halfway across the room from me like a dark avenging angel, his chest rising and falling beneath a black shirt that clung to him like a second skin, blood smeared across his forearm.
I didn’t know if I should be grateful to see him. Or afraid.
I had just witnessed the man I loved savagely taking out every last one of my captors. I should’ve been screaming at the violence, but even with what I’d learned about him and the brutality I had seen, Aston somehow still represented safety to me.
His breathing was ragged, his eyes wild. And the second his gaze locked with mine, his shoulders dropped like someone had cut the strings holding him together. “Putain.”
Hearing him rasp one of his favorite French curse words was so familiar that it brought tears to my eyes.
My feet moved before my mind caught up, and I ran to Aston.
The zip ties around my wrists bit into my skin, my balance off from how long I’d been restrained. But it didn’t matter. I stumbled into him with all the strength I had left, burying my face against his chest. His spicy scent was tinged with sweat and gunpowder as I dragged it into my lungs.
“You’re safe now, ma petite miette,” he murmured, pressing his lips to my hair. “No one will ever hurt you again.”
My entire body trembled as he wrapped his arms around me, one hand cradling the back of my head while the other splayed protectively over my spine. As his palm stroked down, it was blocked by my bound wrists. “Merde.”
He used his knife to quickly free my hands. My arms dropped forward, and I gasped as the blood rushed back into my fingers with a pins-and-needles burn.
After sheathing the blade, Aston caught my wrists gently and rubbed them with his thumbs, cradling them as though they were made of porcelain. He looked up at me with something like anguish in his eyes.
The tremors in my limbs began to subside, but another kind of shaking took their place. It was an inner reckoning.
As relieved as I was to be in Aston’s arms, I couldn’t unsee what he’d done. And even though I could rationalize his violence because it was in defense of me, I couldn’t unlearn what I now knew to be true about him. The secrets he’d kept from me.
I tilted my head back to look at him. There was blood on his temple, and his jaw was clenched tight. His eyes were still wild and predator sharp.
He was terrifying. And he was mine, the same way I was irrevocably his.
“Aston…”
My voice trembled, and he froze as though he immediately sensed my inner conflict.
Aston let me go, oh so slowly, his hands lingering on my sore wrists as though he was reluctant to release me. But he finally did, allowing me to step back.
His jaw ticked, and his hands fell slowly to his sides. But I saw the war that raged in his eyes. He wanted to drag me back into his arms, but he didn’t.
The fact he was battling his inner demons to give me what I needed sent a crack through the wall that I was trying to build around my heart. But I had questions that I couldn’t put off, so I forced myself to remain strong.
The air between us vibrated with the aftermath of everything I’d seen and heard. Blood. Gunfire. Dead bodies.
There was no pretending that I didn’t know who Aston really was. No more charming mystery or flirtatious distraction.
My voice was stronger than I expected as I said, “I need answers.”
He gave a single nod, his nostrils flaring. “You’ll have them. All of them. J’te jure.”
Our eyes locked, and I felt that pull again. I didn’t resist, giving myself this one beautiful moment before he gave me his truths. Instead, I leaned forward, and he met me halfway, his mouth crashing against mine in a kiss that was all desperation and gratitude and longing. It was unsteady and imperfect but also somehow more meaningful than all of the other kisses we had shared.
But then I broke contact, gasping for breath as I took a step back again. My voice was shaky as I whispered, “We can’t. Not yet.”