Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69352 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69352 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
“Wow,” she said, eyes wide. “That’s…” I waited for her to say ‘generous’ or ‘crazy’ but what she went with was, “Sweet.” She looked confused for a moment. “But didn’t you say that your sister ran your dad’s company for him?”
I grimaced. “Kind of. We’re not one hundred percent sure he’ll take any of the money from that place. Keely doesn’t. And so we’re preparing in case he won’t want anything to do with it.” My eyes narrowed slightly. “You don’t think it’s stupid that I live in a shitty house when I could be saving that money I’m putting into his account and putting it toward my own house?”
She was already shaking her head before I could finish. “To be completely truthful, I think that it’s very heartwarming to hear that you want to take care of your brother. You haven’t told me exactly what happened with your sister, but had Shasha gone to jail for beating up my attacker…” she trailed off. “I’d have done the same thing. I’d have given him my whole entire soul if he’d asked.”
She understood.
More than understood.
She’d experienced it with her own eyes.
Her brother might not have gone as far with Milena’s attacker as my own brother had, but she more than understood the feeling to make sure that Copper was always covered. He’d given up his life for our sister. It was only fair that we helped him when he got out.
I hooked my hand on her chair and turned her on the barstool so that her legs were between mine.
“Are you okay?”
She knew what I was asking despite not outright saying the words.
“I’m okay,” she admitted. “Not good. Not bad. Just okay.”
That was better than I expected, to be honest.
“Who wants another round?” Webber yelled.
Milena tossed back the last of her beer then stood up before saying, “Me!”
I grinned, loving the direction my night had just taken.
The day they handed out patience, Milena left because it was taking too long.
—Cutter to Chevy
CUTTER
My eyes peeled open and I stared at the stained roof, my head momentarily offline as I tried to figure out how I’d gotten in the position that I was in.
Then the woman next to me moved, and I was reminded.
Last night, I’d stopped drinking after my fourth beer.
Milena and Dima had not.
They’d both imbibed enough that I knew they’d needed to let off steam.
Some of the brothers got just as shit-faced as them.
Others had kept it mostly sober to protect the lone woman in our midst.
Long hours later, we’d driven back to my place in Dima’s car, and I’d hauled them both inside.
Dima was on my couch snoring—I could hear him sawing logs from the bedroom—and Milena was currently in my arms.
The woman was dead asleep, which was how I’d extricated myself from her embrace.
Last night, she’d dressed in a pair of my sweats and my NAVY sweatshirt that was so big on her that it might as well have been a blanket.
Today, the sweats had ridden up from her ankles to reside around her lower thighs, right above her knee. The sweatshirt was still in place, but half of her shoulder was visible.
And all that black hair was spread…everywhere.
On the pillow. The mattress. My pillow. Under both pillows.
How did she sleep with it unbound?
Okay, so the woman was adorably cute.
Until she went to sleep.
Then she had some terrifying things to say.
At first, I thought the sleep talking was adorable.
But then she started saying creepy things.
For instance, the last thing she’d said that had woken me from a dead sleep was, “Do you see it? It’s right behind you.”
At one point in the night she’d woken and said, “What’s that on your dresser?”
From that point on, I’d decided that earplugs might be the way to go the next time I slept with her.
Standing up and stretching my arms up high over my head, I yawned, though I tried to do it quietly as not to wake the woman that definitely needed some sleep.
When I got through brushing my teeth and using the bathroom, I headed out to the coffee pot that I’d set to brew not long ago—which likely had been part of why I’d woken.
The smell of coffee was one of my most favorite things in the morning.
The first was pussy, but that wasn’t in the cards for me right then, so I went with the coffee as a close runner up.
I was taking a sip of the brew when I saw a leg on my front porch.
I moved to the side so I could see better, and saw Shasha Semyonov on my porch, drinking his own cup of coffee—this one from a travel mug.
I walked out the sliding glass door and took a seat in my chair beside him.
“Did she sleep okay?” he asked the moment I sat down.