Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 167204 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 836(@200wpm)___ 669(@250wpm)___ 557(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 167204 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 836(@200wpm)___ 669(@250wpm)___ 557(@300wpm)
Logically, I know he isn’t doing anything to her, but illogically, my brain is looking at the puzzle pieces—she’s naked, he can see her, he’s touching her fucking face with some kind of tenderness—and I want to rip him away from her and throw him out the fucking window.
Mine, growls something reckless and fucking insane buried deep inside me.
It takes all my restraint not to snap, “Get away from her,” but he looks back when he hears me come in, and it must be written on my face.
He drops his hand and stands.
“Why isn’t she wearing clothes?” I demand, my anger at the situation seeping into my tone.
“I don’t know,” he says, shaking his head slightly. “I just got here a couple of minutes ago. This is how I found her.”
“Did you bust the door in, or did he?”
“I did. She wouldn’t open it, and I didn’t know if he was in here with her. He wasn’t,” he assures me, so I don’t have to ask. “He must have split before I got here.”
I swallow, bending to grab the dropped towel on the floor, then I walk over to Brynn and crouch down so I can wrap it around her and cover her up.
This close, I see that she’s not completely naked. She has panties on, just nothing else.
A cat I’m guessing is Toast prances over and rubs against her legs before walking around and forcing its way into her lap.
Brynn lowers her legs slightly to make room for the little pest, then she gently strokes her back. The cat curls around her, then climbs up her bare chest to bite Brynn’s nose.
Brynn cracks a smile and pets her head, then she gives her a little kiss that seems to satisfy the demanding feline.
Since the cat seems to have snapped her out of whatever the hell I walked in on, I ask, “Are you okay?”
Brynn looks up at me and nods, absently stroking the cat. “Yeah. Sorry. I didn’t expect you to come. I knew I had your car, so I called Ripley instead.”
I scowl. “Who the hell is Ripley?”
Her eyebrows rise sharply. “Your friend? The guy who was watching my building when I got home last night? He left me your car key this morning so I could drive it today, and he gave me a phone with your number and his saved to contacts.”
“Hex?” I ask, still scowling.
As if summoned, Hex leans in the broken doorway behind us and drawls, “It was my costume last night.” His gaze shifts to Brynn on the floor. “The Talented Mr. Ripley.”
Her confusion clears. “Ah,” she says to him. “So your real name is…?”
“Hexton Hall. My friends call me Hex.”
I gesture to Shane. “And this is Shane, you met him last night.”
She smiles faintly. “I recognized him. He was wearing a mask last night, but he smells the same.”
Shane cocks an eyebrow. “I smell?”
“It’s a good smell,” she assures him.
That’s enough of that bullshit. “You all need to get the fuck out of her bedroom so she can get some clothes on. Tell her roommate she might want to clear out until they can change the lock on the front door. It’s not safe as long as that fucker has a key.”
“Already did,” Hex says. “If Brynn needs somewhere safe to stay tonight—”
“She doesn’t.”
I can feel Hex’s eyes on me even before I look back at him.
“She’ll be staying with me.” I look back at Brynn. “Not just tonight, either. You need to pack your shit for the week.”
Eyes wide, she says, “Can I bring my cat?”
“Yes, you can bring the damn cat.”
Shane brushes past Hex on his way out of the room, but Hex remains in the doorway and stares at me until I meet his gaze.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asks.
I point to the busted lock on her bedroom door. “She can’t fucking stay here.”
“No, she can’t stay here,” he agrees. “But there’s no reason she has to stay with you.”
“There’s no reason for her not to, either,” I state.
“Your car’s parked out front,” he says, still holding my gaze. “He probably saw her driving it. He may even have hung around to see who was coming to her rescue. The smart thing to do would be to put her somewhere else.”
“I’m not afraid of the fucking frat boy. Let him come to my place. Only way he’ll leave is in pieces.”
Hex looks away and shakes his head. “I don’t like this, Kill.”
“I’ve got it under control,” I assure him.
He has no reason to doubt me, so he has to take my word for it, but I can see he still doesn’t agree.
Doesn’t matter.
Hex may be the de facto leader of the current class of Blue Bloods, but at the end of the day, we’re a brotherhood of equals, not a monarchy.