Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
"I’m ashamed of myself, too. For what I've done and what I've turned him into." Lee’s brow wrinkles in question, and I continue. “A raging psycho.”
He shifts to look at me and then nods. "Yeah I get it, but his choices aren't because of you. Sebastian was a raging psycho before you ever came along, no offense.” He smirks, “He cares about you, though. Hell, having known the man since childhood, I'd say he loves you."
Love? He thinks Sebastian loves me? Is that even possible?
My heart clenches deep inside my chest, making it hard to do anything, even breathe. We had only begun our relationship when Yanov’s move lit a match to the sweetness between us. Is love between us even possible after everything we’ve gone through? It's on the edge of my tongue to ask Lee but the bedroom door flies open, and this time it’s Sebastian gracing me with his presence. The question dies, replaced with the usual overwhelming awe I feel when Sebastian enters a room.
He steps inside, pauses in the doorway, and stares at us, his gaze narrowing on Lee.
"Get the fuck out of my bed, Lee."
“And that means it’s time for me to go. It was nice talking to you, Sunshine.” Lee raises his arms in surrender, his fingers curled around the bottle. “Maybe we can talk about something less depressing next time.” He winks at me and then rolls neatly off the bed. Once on his feet, he blows me a kiss and rushes around Seb and out the door.
"Did he touch you?" Seb demands as he stands at the foot of the bed, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt.
“What would you do if he did?” I tease, needing to know how far he’ll go. Would he actually hurt one of his friends for me?
“Depends on what he did, but tread very carefully Ely, because while Lee is one of my best friends, and I consider him to be the closest thing I have to a brother, if he hurt you or touched you in any way that pisses me off then he’s as good as dead.”
Does he have to be such a caveman? I roll my eyes at him and release a heavy sigh, the alcohol helping to loosen me up a bit. “You don’t have to be so territorial. We were only talking.”
“I know.” If he knows then why did he have such a murderous glint in his eyes?
“Where were you?” I growl, impatiently. “I’ve been tied to this bed for hours. Did you forget about me?”
“Of course not. Did you miss me?”
“You wish.” I hiss through my teeth. “More like I miss having blood flow to my arms. Untie me, please.” I add the please to soften the blow of what’s to come, because the moment he unties me all hell is going to break loose. I don’t care if he loves me or not.
“Maybe you’ll think about acting like an adult instead of a child next time.” He reaches up and unties my wrists.
The second I'm free I scramble forward and slap him hard across the face. The sting radiates across my palm, and it hurts like hell but it’s worth it. "Don’t ever tie me up and leave me here again!"
His green eyes blaze with fire as he glares down at me. "Then don’t do shit that makes me have to tie you up. Otherwise, I’ll be forced to do things my way.”
My control slowly slips away. "Your way?' I screech, barely recognizing my voice.
Who does he think he is? I’m tired of being pushed around. Tired of men controlling me. I’m a human being—not a trophy or piece of furniture.
Angrily, I shove at his chest until he stumbles back a step.
“What the fuck, Ely?” He stares at me, shock clear on his face.
I smile. The strength I’m able to put into that shove surprises me, but it isn’t enough. I’m not done with him yet. Crawling off the bed, I follow his retreating form, shoving him again and again, until he trips over his own feet. At the last minute he reaches for me, and takes me down with him. We fall into a heap on the floor, his strong arms wrapping around me as he takes the brunt of the fall.
Somehow I know he’ll always take the brunt, and that awareness makes my anger spiral higher. I’m so angry. Angry at him, at myself. At the entire situation.
I’ve never hit another person in my life, but I slam my balled up fists into his chest. He doesn’t react except to squeeze me tighter, and I do it again. Over and over again. He does nothing and says nothing, and that only frustrates me more. I want his anger. I want his pain. I need his reaction so I can let it fuel me, but he refuses to give it to me.