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)
“No,” he snaps, tossing the cut onto his bed. “That makes zero sense. She was a kid for fuck’s sake. That’s not who he is.” His hands go to his hips. Frustration forms a wrinkle across his forehead.
“Then how do you explain this?” I wheeze, picking up the cut and throwing it at his chest. The evidence is right there.
He catches it before it falls to the floor and seethes. “Maybe she found it. Maybe someone gave it to her. I don’t know, but you can’t jump to conclusions.”
I’ve gotten careless, forgetting I’m in a ring with a King. Loyalty will always go to his patch, his brothers, and his father. I feel like he’s doused me in gasoline and lit a match. “You sound just like him.” I lift my chin, eyes squinting.
“Like who?” His muscles twitch.
“Tyler,” I taunt, irritation spiking in me.
“I’m nothing like that bastard.” He dumps the cut and paces again. Resting his hands on the dresser, he dips his head.
“He said the same thing. Wouldn’t take action,” I say to his back.
“This is why you came here. You thought you’d find her killer and…do what, exactly?” He throws his arms out, facing me again.
“Kill him.” I stretch to my entire five-feet-six-inches.
“Then what would happen to you?” His eyes search mine.
“I don’t care.” A tear slips free. My arms curl around my body to keep me from breaking. The used towel from his shower last night lies in a heap by the end of the bed. How different things seemed a few hours ago.
“It’s fucking reckless. Tyler just let you go off with this suicide plan?” he roars, swiping his arm across the dresser, knocking everything to the floor. I leap as coins pelt toward my feet.
Clink.
Clink.
Clink.
The sound of our heavy breathing fills the air. “I don’t need Tyler’s permission. I can do as I please.” I want to believe that.
“You’re going to get yourself killed.” He smears a hand across his mouth. That’s what Tyler said too.
“Do you make it a habit to kill women?” I scorn, gnashing my teeth. It’s a low blow, but I don’t care.
“Only if they push our hand.” He looms over me, the reaper flashing in his dark eyes.
I’ve been so busy craving him, falling for him, that I’ve forgotten who I’m dealing with. A killer. “Is that what Harley did?”
“For fuck’s sake, Rogue, we didn’t have anything to do with her murder. We don’t butcher kids.”
“‘There’s no mercy for sins against a King,’” I say, repeating his argument back to him.
“What was her sin?” His stance is wide, tall, confident.
“I don’t know—the fact that she was a Devil? Her insignia tattoo got cut from her skin.” A cold snake winds around my body, squeezing.
“That sounds more like something her club would do. Maybe you need to be having this conversation with them.” His chin juts out. I blanch, the accusation an assault. My childhood plays through my mind, a movie of memories.
“That’s absurd. They raised her—loved her.”
An unamused snort jerks his head. “Yet, here you are, alone, searching for her murderer.”
Tears sting my eyes, the hollow hole widening. All the fight sags out of me, exhaustion taking over. We’re getting nowhere.
“What about you?” he asks, the predator in him taunting. “If being a Devil means a sin against a King, wouldn’t I kill you?” He waves a hand over my body.
“Maybe you will.” It feels a hell of a lot like death right now.
“Do you have this tattoo?” One look at me, and he sees the answer in my eyes. He shakes his head, irritation ticking his jaw. “Where is it?” He sneers, his large stature embedded in the center of the room. Silence. “Show it to me.”
“No.” I cross my arms and turn away from him, going over to his bed and sitting.
“Show it to me, Rogue,” he demands, waving an impatient hand in my direction.
“Fuck you,” I spit out.
“I think you would have if you weren’t hiding a tattoo,” he rumbles. More truths.
“Fine.” I stand. The room falls silent, the atmosphere thickening. Kicking my sneakers off, I pull my sweats down my legs. Leaving them wrapped around one ankle, I raise my free foot, plant it on his bed, then shift to allow him to see my inner thigh. Without panties on, everything’s on display for him. My heart hammers against my chest. An appreciative sound climbs up his throat as I hold my breath.
“So, that’s why you wouldn’t let me between your thighs.” His eyes glass over, pinned to the apex of my thighs.
“Not the only reason.” Liar. Lust soaks my body, setting off a throb below.
“Really?” he questions, taking one step, then two. I tense as he continues to make his way toward me, his movement predatory. A panther sneaking up on prey with precise strides, muscles flexing, eyes owning. “What’s the other?”