Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69822 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69822 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
“You don’t trust her?” he asks and peers up at me and waits for my response.
“I trust that I know what she’ll do at this point.” I focus on keeping my breathing steady as I listen to Addison upstairs, turning on the faucet in the kitchen. Our voices won’t carry well, but if she wanted to, she could hear us.
Eli sighs as he nods his head and runs a hand over his knee.
I hated her father when I was a kid. I hated him for what he did to me. I hated him for letting me go alive. I hated him for what he did to my home and what he tried to do to my brothers.
But I’ve never hated him more now. Knowing when I put a bullet in his skull, it will kill her. I can already see how she’ll look at me. I can feel her nails dig into my skin as she claws at me. I can hear her screaming.
I can already feel his death tearing her away from me. We’re hanging on by a single thread and it’s because of him. My jaw clenches and I breathe out low and steady, gazing at the molding that lines the stairwell even though I feel Eli’s eyes on me.
The silence stretches until I ask him, “What do you think of her?”
“Of Aria?”
With a single nod, I appraise his expression, his body language, his tone. Everything. I can’t explain how whenever one of my men is by her or mentions her or her name, I can’t explain how anxiety races through me. She’s my weakness and I want her to receive nothing but respect for her. Respect and fear.
But given everything that’s happened, I don’t think anyone knows what to think of her, or what to think of us.
“I think she has the heart of a lover and the temper of a fighter.”
“You sound like a true Irishman,” I tell him as I huff a response to his answer.
With his asymmetric smirk, he adds, “I wouldn’t want to be her enemy and I think the two of you… together, is something that will be feared.”
“I wouldn’t want to be her enemy either,” I say flatly as my stomach knots and my throat gets tighter. But I am. And I always will be.
It’s not her that makes it impossible to be together.
It’s not me either.
We never had a chance. My gaze falls as I control the numbness that pricks along my skin. I wanted her so badly, I didn’t dare look past the desire for her and see the challenges rooted in our very souls.
She may try to love me, but she will always hate me.
“You think you know what she’ll do after tomorrow? When they’re all dead?” he whispers his question and I nod, feeling the unbearable knot twist even tighter. With the media in an uproar, the cops aren’t holding off for much longer. We promised them tomorrow would be the last day we needed them to stay on the west side while we invade from the east. A single bullet to Talvery’s head and his factions will fall.
Tomorrow, I’m going to murder her father.
“I think she’ll kill me. And I think she’ll hate herself for it but feel it was what she needed to do.” Eli’s gaze falls and my stomach sinks with it. My fingers are so numb I have to clench and relax my hand repeatedly, but it doesn’t work to bring life back to it.
“That’s … a…” he fails to respond.
“I’m choosing to be her enemy and to take everything from her. It doesn’t matter if she thinks she loves me.” The coldness spreads through my chest like ice crackling. “Hate is stronger.” I’m surprised by how strong and unforgiving my words are. “She’ll want revenge for what I’m going to do. I would want it too.”
Eli looks over his shoulder and down the hall, toward Aria’s bedroom. “Is that why you haven’t gone to her?”
Not trusting myself to speak, I only nod. I can’t look her in the eyes and confess how much she means to me, knowing how badly I’m going to hurt her tomorrow.
I won’t do that to her. I’m not that cruel.
Bang, bang, bang, bang!
Adrenaline spikes from my toes straight up through my core, freezing my body, then heating it all at once at the sound of guns going off in the distance. My grip on the railing is white-knuckled as Eli stands and speaks clearly into the device on his wrist.
“Where’d they come from?” he asks, and I bring up the surveillance on my phone, all the while listening. It sounded like it came from blocks away and within seconds I can see two cars blocking the road and men leaning out of the windows.
“East,” Eli answers but I already know. My heart pumps harder and the blood is fueled by the need to react. To grip the hard metal of a gun in my hand and feel the recoil again my palm after I’ve pulled the trigger.