Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 94436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
He did not notice that the slightest touch to my breasts caused me to flinch in pain, because whenever he was touching me, it was with an animalistic hunger that was meant to cause pain.
Nor did he notice that I nibbled on dry toast and sugary tea in the mornings instead of a triple shot latte and whatever it was I felt like eating at the time.
He didn’t notice any of that. Because his mind was elsewhere. On the growing tension with the Russians, if tension was even the word for it. They’d ordered the attack on me and Wren which, of course, they’d denied and Jay could find no proof. Which meant things were more complicated than declaring outright war.
Jay had explained all of this to me over the course of many nights, his words clipped, his expression drawn and his hand—the one that wasn’t touching me—clenched into a fist. He was coiled tight, braced, ready for something. I couldn’t get to him, not to the soft core I’d found. He’d closed it back up because he was scared.
Not for himself. I knew that Jay had faced much worse in his life, that he was not scared for himself, his business or even for his employees. He was scared for me. I had only truly begun to understand why he was the way he was. Why he structured his life so carefully, making sure that no one got close, no one became important to him.
Because in his business, the people who he did business with—like the Russian fucking Mob—picked off those people, the ones who were important, the ones who they would wound until there weren’t any soft places left to wound, without any blood left to bleed.
I was ruminating over all of this one afternoon at home, some stupid reality show playing on the television, nibbling on pork rinds because they were the only things I could stomach right now.
Joseph had just left. He was handling things well didn’t ask a single question about the bodyguards who trailed me now or all of the changes to my schedule. He just did the work, in addition to brining me herbal tea instead of coffee, without saying a word.
If Joseph were straight and if I were not his employer and if I was not madly and irrevocably in love with—and married to—another man, I totally would’ve married him.
While I was nibbling on my pork rinds, watching a Real Housewife catfight and worrying about the future, Wren walked in.
Strutted in.
In six-inch heels, wearing tailored white pants and a Balmain blazer. Long, bouncy curls tumbled around her flawless face. Her makeup was expertly applied, and she was sun kissed everywhere. The smile on her face was utterly fake, and her eyes glowed with pain.
“Oh, my God, I love this episode. You’re making me totally tempted to stay change into some sweats, Postmates a margarita and get drunk as hell to watch television gold,” she chirped, eyes flickering from the TV to me. Then to the pork rinds in my hands.
“You on Keto or something?” she smirked with a glint to her eye.
I stared at her, heart hurting in the same way it always did when I looked at my sweet friend. “You’re not staying?” I asked.
Her smile faltered. “I’m on my way to the airport.”
I blinked at her, putting down my pork rinds. “The airport?” I repeated.
She nodded. “I leave for Nepal in...” she glanced at her phone. “Two hours. And flying commercial means I actually should have to leave twenty minutes ago.” She reached out to grab my hand. “But I had to say goodbye.”
My mind struggled to catch up with the words coming out of her mouth. Pregnancy brain had a lot to do with it. And the fact that Wren had not mentioned, not once, going to Nepal.
“Why are you going to Nepal?” I finally asked.
She sighed. “I’m going to hike into the mountains and stay in a monastery. Try to get some monks to forget their vows.” She waggled her eyebrows, but she wasn’t fooling either of us. “I just need to ... go.”
“You can’t leave,” I whined, holding onto her hand as if I could do so forever, to keep her here.
She squeezed my hand, smiling sadly. It broke my heart that my stunning friend smiled with sadness now. “I have to.”
“What about Karson?” I asked. “He needs you. You need each other.”
Wren’s eyes turned glassy. “I can’t look at him without seeing...” she sucked in a ragged breath. Literally ragged. As if the very air she was breathing was sharp.
“I can’t look at him without seeing what we lost,” she admitted. “I can barely look at myself. And I know he lost something too. I know he’s hurting. But I can’t. It’s ugly and it’s weak, but I’m not strong enough to be with him, Stella. I’m barely strong enough to look at myself in the mirror.” She cupped my cheek with watery eyes. “My amazing friend, I’m barely strong enough to look at you.”