Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“Let’s get you home,” Ethan says, his arm around my shoulders. He pulls me into his side protectively, guiding me toward the G Wagon, and I know he’s sending Gabe a message.
I pull free from my brother’s grasp and move to Gabe, who oddly hasn’t come near me. He stands with his hands loose at his sides but he looks like he’s ready to blow into a million pieces. I glance down, see blood on his knuckles and reach for them to inspect, but he steps back.
I shake my head, censure in my tone. “Don’t do that. Let me see your hands.”
“I almost got you killed,” he growls. “Not quite worried about my hands.”
Ethan steps forward, touches my shoulder. “Come on, Kat.”
“No,” I snap, rolling my shoulder so his hand’s thrown off. I step in close to Gabe, tipping my head to look up at him. “What was all this about?”
“Paying a debt my dad owed,” he grits out. “He bet a case of rare bourbon and I refused to give it to Rafferty. They took you, so yeah… my fault I almost got you killed.”
“You couldn’t have known they would kidnap me,” I scoff.
“Doesn’t matter,” Gabe says, heading around the front of the G Wagon. “Ethan’s right. Let’s get you home. Your family will want to see you.”
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know Gabe is riddled with guilt and while I want to have a long talk with him—to thank him for rescuing me and to work through his feelings—I can’t do it with Ethan in the car. I also don’t feel like getting into it with my brother as I know the inevitable argument will come about me seeing a Mardraggon. So I wait and bide my time.
The ride back to Shelbyville is utterly silent. Ethan chose the front seat, forcing me into the back, and as I sit on the passenger side, I study Gabe’s taut profile, his jaw locked in anger. His gaze seems a million miles away as he drives us home.
When we pull up to my family’s house, the door is flung open and everyone—except Sylvie who I assume is sleeping—pours out. Ethan texted them on the way home I was safe and next thing I know, I’m out of the vehicle and being passed around for hugs. It’s a whirlwind, being hugged, kissed, twirled and looked over critically by my mother who insists on getting ice on my face.
The sound of Gabe’s vehicle reversing gets my attention and I jerk away from my mom. Gabe is actually turning around to leave.
Without talking to me.
Without saying goodbye.
Without some type of explanation as to what happened, not just tonight but where we stand right now.
I run over to his SUV as he’s still in reverse, slamming my hands down on the hood to glare at him through the windshield. His expression is inscrutable as we engage in a staring contest.
“Just let him go,” Wade calls out, but I don’t budge an inch.
“It would be good fucking riddance,” Trey mutters.
“Don’t,” Ethan growls, and I jolt slightly at the anger in his tone, but I don’t take my eyes off Gabe. “He got Kat back safe at great cost to himself and on top of that, he kicked the shit out of the man who hit her.”
“Let’s go inside,” my father says and that surprises me. I would put him firmly on Team Hate Mardraggon with Trey and Wade. And despite how my dumbass brothers act all overprotective, it’s my dad Gabe should fear.
He’s letting me handle this on my own which doesn’t necessarily say he trusts me, but rather… he must trust Gabe to some extent. It’s probably sunk in the way it has with Ethan, that he went to great risk tonight. Probably personal expense too, as I have no clue what that case of bourbon was worth, but enough to warrant a kidnapping.
From the corner of my eye, I can see my family moving toward the porch and once they’re inside, I move around to the driver’s door. To my relief, Gabe puts the vehicle in park and exits.
“What are you doing?” I demand. “Why would you leave without saying anything or talking to me about this?”
Gabe sighs and rubs a hand over the back of his neck. His gaze slides over to the house and lingers there a moment before returning to me. “My family has done some fucked-up things to yours the last few months. I thought maybe you and I could have something, but tonight is just further proof that the Mardraggons are toxic to your family. I’m toxic to you.”
“You’re not—”
“You could have died tonight,” he barks at me, face contorted in anger. “They sent me a fucking picture of you with a gun to your head. That guy was completely unhinged and this could have ended very badly. As it stands, you were hurt, and I’ll never forgive myself for that.”