Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 50653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 253(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 253(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
“Shorten it.” Has this room always been this small? The dark green walls are barren apart from the video monitors on the back wall. They close in around me.
The wood floor creaks as I edge farther inside now that he’s no longer confining me. The air is thick, clogging my throat.
“I’ve known him my whole life. He was all I knew until you.” I stroke my fingers along the mahogany surface of his desk to stop myself from squeezing my hands into fists.
“He’s a piece of shit who doesn’t deserve to look at a woman like you, let alone marry her. Fuck.” He paces, grabbing at strands of his hair, then throws himself into his office chair, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.
“Callan,” I murmur, moving toward him, the ocean pulled by the moon’s gravity. Placing my hand over his, I bend to my knees.
He tilts his head, looking at me, studying, dissecting. His pupils constrict. His fingers curl around my wrist, raising us back to our feet. “Did he do that to your face?”
Crap.
“It’s not important.” And not the first bruise he’s left on my face. Tyler’s quick tempered and doesn’t like it when people talk back.
He takes my chin in his grip and turns my head, swiping my hair behind my ear. “I’ll cut his fucking hands from his arms and feed them to him.”
“Callan…”
Stroking his hand farther up my face, he pushes me against his desk. “Did he send you here?” His muscles coil beneath his shirt. His anger absorbs all the light. All that remains is the dark monster heaving over me. “To spy.”
Dread gnaws away at my insides. “No,” I cry out, clasping onto his arms to steady myself. Why does this hurt so much?
“Why the fuck did you come to Ray’s that night?” he demands, seeking answers.
“To get me here.” Tears burn the corners of my eyes.
“Here—with me?” Callan’s eyes search mine, the walls crumbling down.
“Yes and no,” I choke out, lies and truths clawing up my throat.
“No more games.” His eyes close. He rests his forehead against mine. I didn’t realize how lonely I was until I came here. How entombed I’d become just existing as Tyler’s fiancée, an extension of him. A pet in her sorrow-drenched prison. Being here with Callan, with Kitty, I feel free.
“I didn’t expect this to happen.” I exhale. We’re so close, I can taste his breath on my tongue. I want to consume him, claim him as my own.
“What is this?” His voice is full of pain, anguish.
“You and me. Us.” My chest constricts. The tears I’ve held back fall to my cheeks. I’m stepping over a cliff edge unsure of what awaits me at the bottom.
He swipes my tears with the pads of his thumbs, his brow crashing. Then his lips find mine, ferocious need consuming my mouth. Urgent and sloppy, our lips taste and our tongues dance. His scent overpowers me. Desperate need builds in my core, pussy, and heart.
We battle the reality, taking it all out on each other’s mouths—a war raging in our bodies. I forget my sore gums, my reasons for being here, who I am, and allow myself to feel him. His hands are everywhere, squeezing, caressing, discovering. A caged beast finally set free, wanting to chew me to pieces with his sharp teeth.
I want to feel every bite.
A rumbling growl vibrates his chest as he tears himself away. I mewl, reaching out for him. No.
“What the fuck is this?” He holds up the gun I had tucked in the back of my sweats. Shit. Shit. Shit.
“It’s to protect myself.” I’m breathless, my lips are swollen, and my chin feels chafed from the small sprouting of stumble on his face.
“Protect yourself? From who?” he asks incredulously. “Me?”
“You’re forgetting who you are.” A spark of fury flickers within me. Memories of everything that has happened between our clubs over the years barreling into me.
“Am I? Or are you forgetting who you are?” He’s back in my space, stealing the oxygen from my lungs. “Are you a Devil or a King?” Blood rushes through my veins, whooshing in my ears.
Once upon a time that answer would be the easiest question in the world. Devil! But now, now it traps me in a chokehold.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen.” I whisper. Apprehension tickles down my spine.
“Then what was?” he barks, the vein in his neck straining.
“I just wanted answers.” I place a hand on my chest to stop it from cracking open.
The light from the security monitors flashes across his contorted features, making him seem more animal than man. “Answers to what?”
The image of Harley on that autopsy table explodes in my mind, lodging a rock in my throat. “To which one of you killed my sister.” A surge of agony washes over me. My body sags, the lies and façade I’ve had to keep up seep from my limbs.