Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 162138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
“This is none of your business,” Jameson screams again, the rage showing on his face as he pushes Lachlan. “She’s not yours!”
I see the moment Lachlan processes that. I see the fury practically coming out of his ears. He grabs Jameson by the throat and slams him against the brick wall.
“She’s my fucking wife,” he says, in a voice so quiet it sends a chill down my spine.
Jameson’s eyes widen. He pushes Lach hard enough to get him off, and throws another punch.
“That’s right, motherfucker.” He punches Jameson once. “MY fucking wife!” He punches him again, so hard that Jameson staggers back.
He seems to fall in slow motion, or maybe that’s just how I see it. The minute he hits the ground, Lachlan is on him again, straddling him and punching. Jameson doesn’t react.
“She is mine,” he growls as he lands another punch. “She was never yours.”
For a moment, I’m still frozen. Part of me doesn’t want to stop him. I don’t want this man to live, but I can’t risk losing Lachlan. Out of nowhere, a wave of calm energy courses through my body and I snap out of my daze. It’s almost as if I’m floating when I walk over to Lachlan. I surge forward and scream his name once, twice. He pulls back, panting so hard that it looks like he might hyperventilate, but I can tell he’s not going to stop.
“LACHLAN!”
His eyes are wild when he looks at me, then looks down at Jameson.
“Lach. Stop.”
He growls, eyes narrowed, as he continues to look at the man on the ground. He’s too far gone. I try everything. I pull his arm, I grip his shoulders. I try to slap him.
Jameson finally makes some kind of sound, a puffed, gargled breath — the only sign of life I’ve heard so far. Lachlan’s face transforms again, rage spiking. I wrap my arms around his neck. He’s shaking, uncontrolled rage or adrenaline or both coursing through him.
“Look at me!” I yell. “LOOK AT ME.”
He’s still breathing hard. In the distance, I hear sirens. He needs to get the fuck out of here. I shift and fall to my knees, grabbing his face, turning it to look in his eyes. My breath catches. There’s a faraway look in them that tells me he’s here, but not really. The sirens grow louder. I’m sure Jameson’s Officer Hugh isn’t there. As Chief of Police, he no longer shows up to sites, but if he hears Jameson is involved, he may, and that’ll be a shit show.
When we left three years ago, Marissa called the Fairview cops and told them everything. They said they would look into it and get back to us. They never did. We knew they wouldn’t. We knew the moment the news hit Officer Hughes, it would be buried underneath all of the other corrupt shit they buried.
Lach moves as if he’s trying to get me off him, so I grab his face harder.
“Baby, please,” I whisper, searching his eyes. “Please. Please. Please, don’t do this. I can’t lose you again.”
His jaw is still set hard. He tries to move his face, and again, I hold him tight.
“Please, Lachlan. You promised,” I say, my chest shaking with tears that can no longer be held back. “You fucking promised.”
He tries to move again. I wrap my arms around his neck and squeeze him tight this time. “I can’t lose you,” I say, voice hoarse from screaming and crying. “Please, Lach. Don’t do this to me. I’ll never forgive you if you don’t stop.”
I pull back and watch him swallow. His expression relaxes a little, his jaw loosens, and his breaths start slowing. He’s still shaking and still has that faraway look on his face. I drop my hands from his face and reach for his hands. His knuckles are raw and bloodied as I pry his tightly balled fists open, which I’m sure has to hurt, but his expression doesn’t falter. His eyes don’t leave mine as I help him get off Jameson. He stands slowly, letting me hold his hands in mine. I'm careful with them, avoiding contact with his wounds. His eyes begin to slowly regain focus as they stay on me. I manage to walk him a few steps away from Jameson’s body.
“I love you.” I let go of one of his hands to bring mine up to his face, running the back across it softly. I examine his face. He has a small cut on his lip, but otherwise, he looks unharmed. I lick my lips, tasting tears on them as I meet his gaze again. “I love you,” I repeat, making sure he hears me.
He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and brings both hands to my cheeks, tenderly wiping away my tears with his thumbs. He sets his forehead against mine and takes a deep breath, as if trying to take some of my oxygen with him. Maybe he is. He can take it all, for all I care. I just need him to be okay. He presses his lips against mine. The kiss starts slowly, his tongue brushing against the edges of my lips before slipping inside my mouth. When our tongues meet, he moves his hands further back to cup the back of my neck with his long fingers and bring me as close as possible to him, intensifying the kiss. He lets out a deep moan that travels through me, all the way down to my toes. In the distance, I hear people shouting, the sirens still wailing. They seem far away as we kiss. Nothing else exists — only his lips on mine and his hands holding me, as if he’s afraid I’ll disappear. I pull away first, setting my feet on the ground, but I don’t back away from him. I can’t. The intensity in his eyes makes it difficult to breathe.