Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 118(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 118(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
I pull back, gasping at his bloodied face. “You’re hurt!”
“I’m fine.”
“Bullshit!” The sobs dry up, replaced with determination. “Come on. We’ve still got the room for a few minutes. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Back in our room, I make him sit on the edge of the bed. Grabbing the hotel’s first-aid kit from the bathroom, I kneel in front of him and gently take his hand.
“Hold still,” I whisper, focusing on cleaning the cuts on his knuckles.
Garrett watches me silently.
“You saved me,” I tell him. “Why? That was so damned risky.”
His throat works as he swallows. “Because no one’s going to take you from me.”
I love him, I love him so damned much.
My hand slides up to his cheek, my thumb brushing over the bruise there. “Garrett...”
The kiss is soft at first, but it doesn’t stay that way. His hands slide into my hair, and I lose myself in him, in the safety and intensity of his touch. The words are right there, begging to be said, but I know the time isn’t right. If I say them now, he’ll say it’s because of how charged the moment is.
Reluctantly, I break the kiss, shuddering. “I don’t suppose we have time—”
Garrett chuckles for the first time since the fight. “Ah, hell, I wish we did, princess, but we can’t stay here now. That fucker could be back any second.”
I swallow hard, knowing he’s right. “Okay…okay. Listen, can you finish checkout and I’ll meet you in the lobby? I need a moment to collect myself.”
“You’ve got five minutes,” he rumbles, stroking my cheek. “I’m not letting you out of my sight longer than that.”
As the door clicks shut behind Garrett, I slump back against the edge of the bed. If Garrett hadn’t been here, I’d have been taken for sure. I can never defend myself like he can, but there is something I can do to maybe turn the tide in our direction.
I pull my phone—the same one I snatched from the garbage the night Garrett tossed it—from its hiding spot in the lining of my purse. Garrett would be furious if he knew I still had it, but I couldn’t bring myself to let it go entirely. It’s the last tether to the life I left behind.
My thumb hovers over the power button. Do I really want to do this? No, I don’t. But I’m going to.
The phone comes to life. I don’t know how I went unnoticed, but when Charles and his goons showed up, instinct had taken over. I hit record, desperate to capture what I could in case things got worse, the phone’s camera barely peeking out of the top of my bag.
Now, watching the scene unfold on the tiny screen, I feel both fury and vindication rise in my chest. Charles’s entitlement. The slimy way he thought he could control me. The violence Garrett endured just to protect me. It’s all here. All the ammunition I need to free Garrett and me both.
I switch over to social media, my fingers flying across the screen as I type out a caption.
"This is the truth about my engagement to Charles Westfield and why I ran. My family arranged a marriage without my consent, and this is how he tried to drag me back. I won’t stay silent anymore.”
Being the heiress to the Carter family fortune, I have a decent presence online as an influencer. This video will reach far enough that Charles will be forced to face some consequences, and maybe my parents will realize how terrible he is for me. With a deep breath, I hit Post. There’s no more hiding behind reputation and money for Charles now.
CHAPTER 6
Garrett
Finally, after what feels like both the shortest and the longest week of my life, I pull into Roswell, New Mexico, to make my delivery.
Sienna is quiet as I back the rig into the designated bay at the receiving dock. Her hands are folded in her lap, fingers nervously fidgeting with the hem of her sweatshirt. I cut the engine, roll my shoulders, and glance over at her. "You gonna be okay while I get this unloaded?"
She smiles at me, soft and sweet. "Yeah, of course. Do you need help?"
I chuckle. "I think I’ve got it.”
I hop out, the hot desert air hitting me hard. With the warehouse being clean and organized, it’s no work at all to sign the paperwork and let the crew start unloading. When I climb back into the cab, I feel lighter than I have in days, despite my sore knuckles and eyebrow. We’re finally on the home stretch.
“That’s our last stop, princess. Now we’re headed—”
“Actually!” she interrupts, looking at me with shining, mischievous eyes. I’m glad to see her so lively, but nervous about what plans she might be cooking in her pretty little head. “Can we make a pit stop? There’s somewhere I’ve always wanted to go.”