Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 122074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Jess shook her head, her lips thinning. “No, Ashton. Come on.”
“Jess, Jess. I’m okay.” Molly was trying to reassure her. “For real. You gotta know that. I’m an Easter. We’re indestructible. I have Shorty Easter genes in me. We’re like roaches. We survive anything. If an explosion went off, and everyone landed in a pile from the blast, I’d be the one crawling out from underneath and probably still holding a candle for my birthday cupcake.”
Jess was nodding, a shadow crossing her gaze as she kept staring at where I was touching Molly. And how Molly was leaning back against me.
She looked at me, swallowing. “I already lost one friend because of a guy.”
That was a hit to my sternum. I growled. “Too low, Montell.”
“Was it? Really?”
“Jess.”
Both of us looked up. Trace had arrived.
She stared at him, shaking her head. “You knew, didn’t you? About them?” She gestured to Molly and me.
His eyebrows dipped down. “You knew too. At his place.”
“No. Molly was lying to me. I knew she was lying, but I didn’t know why. This—” She gestured to where I was touching Molly, low on her hip. “This wasn’t happening then. My bullshit radar was blasting. But now? If you hurt her, Ashton . . .” She let the warning hang between us.
Molly was back to trying to order a drink.
The bartender wasn’t paying her attention. He was transfixed by Trace and me, and Molly’s friends were ping-ponging between the exchange.
Trace’s gaze darkened. “I think it’s time we had this out. Upstairs?”
Jess was already stalking for the door, and I suppressed a curse.
Trace lingered. “Jess is a lot of things, but she’ll let you have your say. She’ll listen. She might not like what you say, but she’ll still listen.”
I locked my gaze on him. “You know full well none of this is about Molly.”
“Even so.” Trace cast her a look. “Some of it is about Molly. Most of it’s about what you did to my woman.”
He left after that, and I had to make a choice. Go or stay.
I growled but said to Elijah, “Watch her.”
He clipped his head in a nod.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
ASHTON
“Goddammit, Walden.”
Jess was seething when I got upstairs. That was her greeting as I came through the door.
Trace was at the bar, pouring himself a drink, and he slid one across the counter for me. I picked it up, taking a sip before focusing on the love of his life.
“Trace explained to you that Molly Easter is my business. He told you the situation. I was told you agreed to step back because of it. What is your issue?”
“My issue?” Her hands went to her hips, and her eyes narrowed, and she looked like she was daydreaming about pulling her weapon on me. “My issue is that you look like you’re fucking her. Are you?”
“You were at my place. You saw that we get along.” I was lying then, and I was lying now, or . . . somewhat. “Why are you pissed about this now?”
“Because despite what you wanted me to think at your place, I knew you hadn’t fucked her. She just got out of the hospital.”
“She’s my business.”
“A cruel business.” Her hands went in the air, and she twisted around, her back rigid. “I’m aware of that. God, I’m aware of this Mafia-business bullshit.”
Trace came to stand next to me, taking a pull of his own drink. We were both watching his woman. I raised an eyebrow at him. “You want to step in here? Help out?”
He shook his head. “Not one bit. You both know the situation, and you’re both pissed. You’re pissed she’s wading in because she cares about someone. She’s pissed because she cares about someone she thinks you’re going to fuck over. And she’s pissed about what you did to her, which I’m still pissed about. You’re not as apologetic as you should be.” He turned, his back to his woman, and he faced me squarely, his eyes glittering. “Yet.” Then he smiled before he took a second drag from his drink. “But unlike Jess, I’m cluing in to the real situation, and you’ll be sorry for what you did to Jess. You’ll be real sorry about it.”
I frowned at him. “I already am.”
“No. Not quite, not until you imagine someone doing to someone you love what you did to mine. Then you’ll get it.” His eyes flashed. He was finding this amusing, but there was a hardness to him too. “I’m looking forward to that day.”
I quieted, but dammit. I turned fully toward her. “I am sorry, Jess. I am truly sorry for what I put you through. I thought I was doing the right thing for my best friend and for our family—”
“That’s not good enough.” Jess stepped forward, her hands back on her hips, her chin up in the air. She was staring at me, almost challenging me. “That’s not fucking good enough. I’m aware of why you did it, but apologize and leave the last part off.”