Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 34926 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34926 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
Not wanting to keep him waiting when I had no idea of his current mental state, I hurried back into the living room and shut the door to the bedroom. He was already waiting for me on the couch.
Chase Dutton was brutally handsome. His short, full beard only accentuated his masculine features. It was gray at the chin but was salt and pepper over his cheeks as well as his short-cropped hair. Unlike many of the men in Bones, Chase only sported a few tattoos, most of which looked like service tattoos, though I hadn’t had the pleasure of examining them closely. Tall, heavily muscled, he was the epitome of strength and power. I’d been in such a weak position for the last ten years, he was the very last man I should be attracted to unless he’d given me an unbreakable promise to always be my protector. He hadn’t. But in my mind, he was. I had no hope of fighting my attraction for him and having him taken an interest in me this evening had only cemented my feelings. To put it bluntly, I was fucking fucked.
“Come sit with me.” Chase reached out a hand for me. He seemed to have calmed down somewhat, but there was still an edge about him I didn’t like.
“Are you angry with me? Am I in trouble?” I needed to know where I stood before putting myself in too close a proximity to him. I doubted I could get to the door and unlock it before he could get to me if he proved to be a threat, but I needed to know what was going on.
Chase sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “No, honey. It’s not you. I should have been more careful taking you back to that motel. I’m angry at myself. I made a rookie mistake.”
I shrugged. “Everyone makes mistakes. But that wasn’t your fault. If I’d --”
“If you’d what?” The fierce look he gave me made me back up a step before I realized I’d done it. “If you’d done what Butch had wanted you to in the bar? If you’d not fought against him when he manhandled you? No, Cotton. That’s not something to even contemplate.” I knew Chase wasn’t going to hurt me, but I stood there trembling anyway. Years of being so powerless -- some of it my own choice -- had conditioned me to expect to get hurt. This man might be capable of violence, but he was first and foremost a protector. He wouldn’t intentionally harm someone weaker than him. Even if they deserved it.
Closing his eyes, Chase took a deep, calming breath. When he opened his eyes, he was more in control again. He held his hand out once again but didn’t say anything. After several seconds, I stepped toward him and took his hand and let him tug me to sit on the couch.
“We have some things to discuss,” he said. “First of all, there’s been a change of plans. You’re going to stay here. With me. I know I said you’d have your own space, but I can’t do that right now. So you’re stuck with me.”
“It’s fine. I know it was short notice.”
“It’s not that, Cotton. I need you close. Those bastards nearly got their hands on you, and I’m not going to get over that anytime soon. I want you where I know you’re safe and comfortable.”
“Would some of the other guys here hurt me?” I was more than a little confused. Had I misjudged all of them? I thought they were decent guys. Everyone I’d met had treated me kindly, but if they were like some of the women in prison had told me, maybe it was all a façade.
“Not at all, honey. No one here would ever harm you. The club girls sometimes get aggressive, but not to the point of really hurting you. And they know to keep their distance.”
“Then why…”
“We’ll get to that later. You’re not ready to hear it and I’m not ready to share. Now. You have secrets. I want them. Now.”
Annoyed at his attitude, I sat back, crossing my arms over my chest. “Not liking your tone, Chase. My secrets are my own. The only reason I told Cain and Pops was because I wanted a job at the Boneyard.”
“Then tell me for the same reason.”
“I’ve already got a job there. Why would I go over all this again?”
“Because you want to tell me. You tell me your past. I’ll tell you mine. And I promise, my past will rival yours.”
“You think so?”
“Wanna bet?” There was something in his eyes that told me he was only half teasing. But he’d intrigued me. Not because I thought we were going to play a game of who’s the better killer. I had no doubt the man before me was as deadly as they came. In fact, I’d bet my life the man had killed more than once. There was something in his eyes. I’d learned the look in prison. I could always tell which of the female prisoners and which guards had killed because they all had that same look in their eyes. I couldn’t describe it, but I saw it reflected back at me every time I looked into the mirror.