Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 143382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 717(@200wpm)___ 574(@250wpm)___ 478(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 143382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 717(@200wpm)___ 574(@250wpm)___ 478(@300wpm)
Holy fuck.
This was a lot.
“Turner,” I whispered.
“It was a while ago.”
“That…” I shook my head. “I don’t know what to say. That had to be the worst. I’m so fucking sorry that happened. So, so sorry you had to do that.”
His words were an audible shrug. “It’s over.”
Those words were also bullshit.
“True, but it’s still fucked up.”
“It’s still fucked up,” he agreed.
I was at a loss.
So much, my mouth ran away from me.
“I don’t know what to do.” I lifted my hands at my sides. “I feel like I should give you a hug or something.”
“I’d take a hug,” he said quietly, watching me closely.
It was then it hit me.
Not tight with his dad or his brother.
His closest friend, a traitor.
Someone died along the way.
No, a colleague did, and that band of brothers had to be as tight as others like them.
This hit him so hard, he left his career at the FBI, which wasn’t like scoring a job at the fryer at McDonald’s.
No shade on the fry guys, but it just wasn’t.
Had he ever been hugged after he endured this?
Like my mouth, my feet had a mind of their own.
They took the two steps to him, and when I arrived, I fit my body to his, wrapped my arms around him, and rested my cheek on his chest.
His arms curved around me.
Oh yeah.
That felt exactly as good as I thought it would feel.
Exactly.
“Have you talked to anyone about this?” I whispered to his shoulder.
“I just talked to you,” he whispered into the top of my hair.
I closed my eyes.
Because he and I were surrounded by good, kind people.
And we were still alone.
I tipped my head back.
He lifted his when I did and looked deep in my eyes.
I was still whispering when I said, “Thanks for saving my No-Fucks-to-Giving.”
His eyes got lazy. I felt that lazy in my belly and regions south, and he replied, “Thanks for sharing your No-Fucks-to-Giving with me.”
I stood there, holding him, gazing into his eyes.
He stood there, holding me, gazing into mine.
Without warning, it seemed his body relaxed, or mine just melted into it. One of his hands glided up my spine, and it felt so nice, I started rolling up on my toes just as his head started to descend.
And we both jolted when my door crashed open.
For a split second, his arms tightened around me.
And then I was shoved behind his back.
“What the…?”
Hearing Harlow’s voice, I peered around Eric’s body and saw Harlow, Luna and Raye all standing in my living room, gawping at us.
I might have been wrong, but it seemed like Eric was just about to kiss me.
Therefore, my “Knock much?” was pure acid.
“I…you…uh…we…you see…” Harlow stammered, blinking rapidly, but that was it. She didn’t finish a thought.
Luna, as ever, was less unsure of herself.
She planted her hands on her hips and demanded, “What’s going on here?”
Raye stepped between them and Eric and me, held a hand up to Luna and said, “No.” She turned to me. “Priorities. Excuse me, Jessica Wylde, but your brother is missing?”
Well, shit.
Damn you, Clarice.
She didn’t even give me a day.
Even a holiday!
“I—” I didn’t quite begin.
Because Luna stepped up next to Raye and said, “Yeah. We know. And helllllooooo? We found fourteen missing women just two months ago.”
Harlow stepped next to Luna. “Yeah,” she spat. “Helllllloooo.”
Raye looked to Luna and Harlow in order to state, “I’m not sure she understood the shot of Fireball and pinkie promise.”
“Damn straight she didn’t,” Luna agreed, not taking her glare off me.
Of note at this juncture, when Harlow and I became official Avenging Angels, Raye and Luna made us take a Fireball shot and make a pinkie promise to the cause.
It was girlie-crap bonding, but I’d done it, mostly because Fireball was tasty.
And I dug my chicks.
Apparently, it meant something to them.
Who knew?
“Avenging Angels unite so we can find your brother,” Harlow decreed.
Oh shit.
“Word,” Raye agreed.
Luna just nodded. Once.
Crap!
“Listen, guys—” I tried.
Raye shook her head. “No. Unh-unh. No way, Jess. This is bullshit.”
“This is a family thing,” I returned.
Harlow’s brows hit her hairline and her voice could shatter glass when she asked, “And we’re not family?”
I felt Harlow’s offense, because they totally were. Especially Harlow (they were all my besties, but even with Harlow’s cheerleader-on-crack personality, which made us exact opposites, she was the bestest of my besties).
But even if they were, they also weren’t.
Fuck!
How to explain?
Eric’s hand settled warm and reassuringly on the small of my back at the same time I felt his tall frame take said back.
I very seldom felt warm, and never reassured, so it was highly distracting.
And getting distracted was a mistake.
Raye lifted a hand and pointed at me, then Luna, then Harlow, then herself, and back at me, while saying, “Confab. Tomorrow night. I’ll text the deets.”
Harlow did the hand lifting thing too and circled it in Eric and my direction, saying, “And during our confab, we’re going to be talking about whatever this is.”