Total pages in book: 198
Estimated words: 186242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 931(@200wpm)___ 745(@250wpm)___ 621(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 186242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 931(@200wpm)___ 745(@250wpm)___ 621(@300wpm)
“You’re fine though? You’re not hurt?” he asked.
“Nothing I won’t get over. Not like last time.” I pressed my cheek against his chest, savoring his warmth. His steadiness. I was fine. I was safe. “Thank you for coming.” I pulled back a little and gave him a small, sheepish smile. “Even though it’d be you they’d send in if I didn’t make it back, huh?”
Rhodes’s face was serious, his pupils wide, as he stared down at me, taking in my features with dark eyes. “I didn’t come because it’s my job.”
Then, before I could react, those arms were around me again, swallowing me up completely. A human cocoon I could have lived in for the rest of my life.
I didn’t imagine the faint tremble that shot through those hard muscles.
And I definitely didn’t imagine the fierce expression he shot me when he pulled back again. His hands moved to settle low on my back. “Are you fine to drive?”
I nodded.
One of those hands moved to squeeze my hip in a way I wasn’t even sure he knew he was doing it as his gaze roamed my face. “Buddy?”
“Hmm?”
“I want you to know . . . Amos is going to want to kill you.”
That was probably the only thing that could have made me laugh then, and I did. Then I told him the absolute truth. “That’s okay. I’m kind of looking forward to it.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Everything hurt.
Literally, every single part of my body ached in some way. From my poor toes that felt like they were bleeding, to my calves that were traumatized, to my exhausted thighs and butt cheeks. If I focused hard enough, my nipples probably hurt too. But it was my hands and forearms that suffered the most on the drive home.
Those one hundred and twenty minutes were spent with me clutching the steering wheel for dear life, holding my breath more often than not.
If I hadn’t just spent the last few hours terrified, my body might have been capable of summing up genuine fear at the rocks and ruts that I drove over. It was only because I was so focused on following Rhodes and not driving over anything sharp that I didn’t lose my shit as we drove painstakingly slow. And if I hadn’t been so tired, I might have cheered when we finally made it to the highway.
It was then that I finally managed to exhale, deeply and completely, from the bottom, bottom of my gut.
I’d made it.
I really had made it.
It had to be the relief that kept me from shaking on the rest of the drive. But the moment after I turned off my car, that was when it hit me. It was a backhand to my face when I wasn’t expecting it.
I blew out a breath a split second before my entire body started shaking. In shock, in fear.
Leaning forward, I pressed my forehead against the steering wheel and shook hard from my neck down to my calves.
I was fine, and that was all that mattered.
I was fine.
The door to my left opened, and before I could turn my head to the side, a big hand landed on my back and Rhodes’s gruff voice spoke inside the car. “I’m here. I’ve got you. You’re going to be okay, angel.”
I nodded, my forehead still there even as another harsh shiver racked my body.
His hand stroked farther down my spine. “Come on. Let’s get inside. You need food, water, rest, and a shower.”
I nodded again, a knot forming in my throat.
Rhodes reached behind me, and a moment later my seat belt loosened. Rhodes guided me to sit back, letting the seat belt snap back into place. I glanced toward him right as he leaned forward, and before I knew what was happening, his arms slipped beneath me, one under the backs of my knees, the other under my shoulder blades, and he hoisted me up. Against his chest I went, cradled.
And I said, “Oh” and “Rhodes, what are you doing?”
And he said, “Taking you upstairs.” He closed the door with his hip before beginning to move, carrying me like it was no big deal as we made our way to the garage apartment. The door was unlocked, so all it took was a quick flip of his wrist to open it before we were going up.
“If you help me, I can do the stairs myself,” I told him, taking in the silver-brown facial hair covering his jaw and chin.
His gray eyes flicked to me as he took one step after another up. “You can, and I would, but I can do it.” And like he was proving a point, he squeezed me tighter to him, closer to that broad chest that had been the biggest relief of my life when I’d spotted him coming out of his car.