Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 129998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
He looks back at me as he opens his car door. “From now on, you don’t go anywhere without that gun, got it? It’s non-negotiable.”
I nod, not prepared to fight him on this. “Yeah, I got it.”
“Good. Now, keep that neck clean. I’ll come back in a few days to check on you.”
“You don’t need to do that, Nic. I’ll call if I need anything.”
Sebastian groans. “Don’t start this bullshit, babe. We’ll come back either way and you know it.”
I roll my eyes and watch as the two Widows drop down into Nic’s car and disappear around the corner of the Carrington mansion. As I watch them go, I quickly realize that every time I watch them drive away, the sting hurts just a little less.
“Are you okay?” Colton murmurs, curling his arm around my waist and pulling me into his warm chest, right where I belong.
“I, umm … I don’t know. I’m still processing.”
“How can I make it better?”
I shrug my shoulders and tip my head up to brush my lips over his. “Cheap Chinese takeout and a movie night on your big ass couch will go a long way to helping me forget that a gang leader wants to drag me into an insane gang war and use me as his personal rat.”
“Okay,” he promises, slipping his hand down to cup my ass. I feel his smile against my lips. “Anything you want, Jade, is yours.”
Chapter 21
The bandage sits heavy at the back of my neck and I’m more aware of it than anything I’ve ever been aware of before. It’s a constant reminder of what went down, a reminder of my future, of what’s going to happen.
Every slight move I make, every soft brush of my hair, every tiny little thing has my stomach turning. I’ve never felt pain like this. My skin burns and I feel as though I’m in a constant sweat which is just another reminder that my whole future has been taken away.
I didn’t sleep one bit, despite the boys’ reassurances that they’ll take care of it. Somehow, I feel it’s an impossible task. Especially when it comes to a man like Mikhail Russo. What he wants, he gets. It’s that simple and it’s not humanly possible to have someone watching over me every second of my life. Eventually, a back is going to be turned and when that happens, I’ll be snatched away like the last pair of black pumps during a half-off sale.
Colton stayed with me all night, holding me as I dreamt of being branded over and over again. I felt the hot sting of Russo’s ring pressing against my skin, I could feel the powerful burn, smell my flesh singe while being held down with no way out. My dreams were so realistic. It was as though I was living it over and over again every time I closed my eyes.
I walk out of the Carrington mansion and start making my way down the sixty-six steps.
It’s been a long morning. Getting dressed and doing my hair was an absolute pain. I’ve never noticed just how many times I touch the back of my neck. I had to come clean to Mom and let her know what happened so she’s been fussing over me, wanting to make sure that I'm alright. She helped me redress it after my shower this morning and I’m sure she’ll be there waiting with a new bandage in hand when I get back this afternoon.
The news of what happened nearly killed her. It’s one thing to learn her husband was a killer in a gang, but to learn that her daughter is only a few short months away from being dragged into that same world couldn’t have been easy.
I don’t know what I’m going to do. I trust Nic, the boys, and Colton to come through. I won’t be joining the Wolves despite their mark on my neck, but there’s always the chance that something can go wrong.
I want to go to college and have a normal life. I’ll never get that if Russo gets his hands on me again. I can't let it happen. I can’t fall down that hole. I’ll never make it out.
The thought seeps out of my mind as I get to the bottom of the stairs to find Milo very impatiently waiting for me. “Heard of a phone?” he calls through the window. “You didn’t answer my call last night. I told you I had tea to spill.”
I cringe, remembering the exact moment he told me he was going to call. “I’m sorry,” I say, walking around the front of his car to the passenger side. I drop down into his car and get comfortable. “It completely slipped my mind. I had a bit going on yesterday.”
“What could possibly be more important than me?” he questions, hitting the gas and speeding down the drive. His momentum has me falling back against the chair of his Aston Martin and a low groan comes tearing out of me.