Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
“Can we help you?” Rhett asks as he approaches, and I can see that he’s weary purely by the way he’s holding himself.
“Yeah you can fuckin’ help us.”
This comes from the man standing at the front of the group, his long, dark hair tied at the nape of his neck, his blue eyes narrowed, his tattooed arms crossed over his skinny chest. He looks rough, but mostly, he looks angry. Really, really angry.
“Dante, take the ladies back to their cabins,” Rhett says, his voice like a whip as he stares down the man. “Now.”
Dammit.
I don’t want to go back. I want to know what the hell is going on.
Dante ushers us into a group and begins walking us toward our cabins, but not before I hear the loud, booming voice. “You killed my son. You want us to believe it was an accident, but we all know it wasn’t an accident. There was some bad shit going down, and he suddenly shows up dead. I call bullshit and you’re going to tell me exactly what the fuck happened out here.”
Vic.
This is about Vic.
Who are those people? His family, maybe?
Are they just angry and upset, or is there more to the story, just like I suspected? I have a feeling that whatever went down with Vic, probably wasn’t meant to go down or, if it was, it wasn’t meant to have any suspicion surrounding it. Still, why would you run a ranch and then even take the risk by doing illegal things.
Nothing adds up.
“What do you think that was all about?” Fallon whispers as we follow Dante back to the cabins.
“Clearly we’re missing something when it comes to Vic,” Ember says, leaning in close. “I had a feeling that it wasn’t an accident. Why would they send us up with someone so inexperienced they fell off a cliff? It doesn’t add up. Why weren’t they with us?”
She’s right. It doesn’t add up.
“I wish we could have heard more,” I murmur.
“Enough talking, ladies,” Dante orders as we reach the cabins. “What is happening back there is a grieving family who lost their son. Show respect by keeping out of it.”
With that, he disappears.
Waylen joins us only minutes later, his face tight. He barks at us to go into our cabins and then goes into his and slams the door. What got up his ass?
Does he have something to do with this? Or is he angry because they won’t let him be involved? That’s probably more likely the case.
Exhaling, we enter the cabin and close the door. I go straight to the shower, desperate for the hot water to wash away the last few days that we weren’t able to shower properly. We washed daily, but nothing beats a hot shower. As I take my clothes off, I smell Lake all over me, his masculine scent practically dripping from my pores. He fucked me every night we were there, and during the day, at every chance he got.
It was incredible.
I have no idea what it means, but it was awesome all the same.
I shower for long, long minutes and then get out, dry myself off, and head back out to where the other two girls are patiently waiting for their turn. Ember disappears before I’ve even made it to the living room, charging past me and slamming the bathroom door. I hear her squeal with delight as she turns the water on, and I can’t help but laugh.
I sit down beside Fallon and run a brush through my hair.
“Do you think that Vic’s death wasn’t accidental?” she asks me, glancing to double check Ember has gone.
“I’m starting to think it wasn’t.”
“It just seems awfully strange that everyone is acting so weird.”
“Even Waylen was acting weird. You know what, I’m just going to go over there and ask him,” I say, standing.
Her eyes widen. “Right now?”
“Yep, better to just dive right in to see a reaction than it is to build up to it. Less for him to hide then. I’ll report back.”
I stand and walk out of the cabin. I make my way over to Waylen and Aaron’s cabin and wonder if Aaron has returned yet. I bang on the door and a few seconds later, Waylen answers, wearing nothing but a pair of pajama shorts, his hair wet, his chiseled jaw freshly clipped. Man looks good, there is no denying that. He’s gorgeous. He’s also really, really grumpy judging by the tight line his mouth is currently stretched out in.
“What are you doing here?”
I stare at him, confused by his clipped, frustrated tone.
“What got up your ass?” I say, crossing my arms.
“Why are you here, Willa?”
“I want to know what’s going on with Vic.”
“No,” he snaps, and begins to slam the door.
I don’t think so, buddy.
I throw my hand out and stop it just before is shuts right in my face. I shove it back open and step inside his cabin.