Total pages in book: 150
Estimated words: 142818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
I didn’t even try to fight about that since I knew I wouldn’t win. If it were just me, I would’ve had more to say. But it was not just me. Our baby had a shock, but despite slightly high blood pressure, she was fine. Even though I felt profound relief over that, I was also filled with a fierce protectiveness, a visceral fear that I hadn’t felt before all of this started.
This was my baby. Our baby. Our future. A precious, priceless thing that was so vulnerable. That some fucking asshole tried to take from us.
Sariah, who had dropped everything to get here, was also alternating between fury, false cheer and planning mode. Once I told her about the wedding, she launched right into that.
The first time Elden left me alone, presumably to have some meeting about vengeance somewhere in the hospital—no way was he leaving the premises—he left me alone with Sariah. My mom was getting food and coffee, and the rest of the Old Ladies were getting the house ready for my homecoming. I had no idea what that really meant, but I was too tired to ask.
Tired and a bunch of other things.
“I feel like I failed,” I admitted to Sariah while she was fussing with the flowers in my room.
She spun around, frowning at me. “What did you just say?”
I toyed with the blanket on the bed. It was cashmere. While I was having my first shower—with Elden, because he wouldn’t let me dream of me showering alone, lest I slip or linger outside of his watchful eye for too long—Sariah had replaced the bedding. Freya brought in silk pajamas and a twelve-step skincare routine. Macy had arranged a stack of books at my bedside.
Mom brought a never-ending supply of brownies and other baked goods.
Caroline set up a laptop, connecting it to the Internet so it was constantly playing Gilmore Girls.
The Sons of Templar had done what they did best, like the forces of nature they were.
I couldn’t help but feel inadequate.
“I should’ve done something more.” I played the events over again, thinking if I’d done something different, Jagger and Hades might’ve been able to catch him.
“Babe, you fought off a serial killer,” Sariah reminded me. “You did it while pregnant, with his knife protruding from your fucking shoulder. You’re better than any dumb, two-dimensional horror movie heroine. If I hear you talking shit about what more you could’ve done, when you did the absolute most, I will bitch slap you, even if you’re pregnant and in the hospital.” I could tell that she was trying very hard to keep her voice light. To keep the fear and worry out of her voice.
Everyone was.
Everyone was shocked in a way that surprised me for a club of men and women who were, unfortunately, accustomed to violence and death. I supposed a lot of it was what they’d invited in... Part of the life they’d agreed to when they put on the cut. Or formed a union with a man wearing one.
But this was something different.
This was the horrors of the outside world coming in. This violence was not retribution for something the club did. This was a senseless evil that permeated everything and shook even the baddest of badasses. I saw it with my own eyes. I only wish I saw more.
The sheriff had come in not long after I woke up, only because I heard Swiss arguing with him in the hall, and I’d convinced Elden that I wanted to speak to him.
Elden was not happy about that. Elden was not happy about anything right now. Sure, he was trying to force smiles, keep his gaze light and unworried on my account, but I saw the concern in his eyes, the terror that had yet to recede.
When the sheriff came in, Elden was a statue at my side.
To his credit, at least the sheriff managed to look sheepish, staring down at me in the hospital bed.
“Are you ready to take this seriously now?” I asked him, not bothering to hide the irritation from my voice.
He nodded tightly. “I assure you, we’re doing everything we can to catch this monster, and we appreciate you working with us. Tell me everything you remember.”
The problem was, I couldn’t remember much. I didn’t hold anything back when I spoke to the sheriff. I mentioned the motorcycle boots, the detail causing Elden to stiffen, the detail that had the sheriff’s hand stutter as he wrote down my statement.
He’d given Swiss and Elden a careful look then, but he was smart enough not to say anything.
I knew what they were all thinking, though. That there was a possibility that this was someone in the club.
I didn’t believe that.
But I couldn’t rule it out either. My details were that he wore motorcycle boots, was taller and stronger than me, wore shitty cologne and wore a sweatshirt with an insignia on it I didn’t recognize.