Total pages in book: 150
Estimated words: 146034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 730(@200wpm)___ 584(@250wpm)___ 487(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 146034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 730(@200wpm)___ 584(@250wpm)___ 487(@300wpm)
My goddamn heart squeezed.
Her hair was a matted mess, her face full of all those severe, striking angles, so sharp they could cut deeper than the wound on my side.
But it was those aqua eyes that slayed as she stood there taking me in like it was the first time she was really seeing me.
Like everything was different.
Like everything had changed.
It had.
I knew it.
I knew it all the way to my soul.
Ten minutes ago, she’d gone to the guest house—escorted by Christa since I sure as hell wasn’t going to let her go back there by herself—to change into some actual clothes since she’d been wearing that blanket like a cloak for the last hour.
When Christa, Everett, and Xavier had walked up, I’d had the urge to cover her, protectiveness binding me in a fist of possession. Xavier had caught it and wrapped her in the blanket, thankfully keeping me from snarling at everyone to turn their goddamn heads until I could get her covered because I didn’t want anyone to find her in that vulnerable state.
To judge, even though if I was being rational, I knew they wouldn’t. I’d known the three of them my whole life and unequivocally trusted them with it.
But there was something about it that had me gritting my teeth.
The whole situation did.
A fresh wave of fury rode through my bloodstream, thoughts snagged on whoever the fucker was who’d been lurking outside the guest house. Outside my house. Someone who’d been scared enough of me getting to him, discovering his identity, that he’d stabbed me.
Fury spun. The need to jump out of this bed and track down the monster was almost overwhelming, though I attempted to tuck it down as Savannah peered over at me in nothing but dread and concern.
I managed a grin. “You don’t need to get shy on me now, Little Trespasser.”
She’d already invaded.
She eased into my room, and her gaze swept my bare torso where I was propped against the headboard like she needed to make sure I was still in one piece. Everett had just finished stitching and bandaging me up, and Savannah had hovered in the corner of the room the entire time, not wanting to get in the way but refusing to leave.
It was the first second we’d had alone since the stubborn woman had dropped to her knees beside me right after the asshole had taken off, refusing to leave my side even when she knew full well she might have been in danger.
I’d sensed it when she’d shifted, when she’d risen up on her knees and stretched her tiny frame out like a little serpent who wouldn’t be afraid to bite.
She’d been guarding me.
Dangerous.
That’s what she was. Completely, utterly dangerous to every resolve I had made. Because those resolves no longer existed.
She’d obliterated them.
Slowly, Savannah approached. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I want to chase a bad guy down.”
Plush lips dipped down at one side, and the image of her on her knees with my cock in her mouth took the inopportune time to flood my brain.
She crept to the side of my bed. It was so high that the top of the mattress hit her at the waist, and I didn’t think she’d ever looked as small as right then. She’d changed into a thin, cream-colored sweater with sleeves so long that she was gripping the ends in her hands, and she’d paired it with black leggings.
She’d swept her mess of hair into a ponytail.
Casual and soft and the best thing I’d ever seen.
“I think I—” She started to speak when there was a tapping at the door behind her, and Samson poked his head inside.
I gestured for him to enter. “Did you find anything?”
Samson’s expression was grim. “Not a trace of whoever the prick was, nothing but a few boot prints and the driver’s-side window of Savannah’s car that was shattered.”
Savannah flinched, fear palpable as it ricocheted around the room.
“I want you to get everything you can on those prints.”
“We’re already on it.”
Of course, they were. Samson didn’t need me telling him how to do his job because he did it well. But I couldn’t seem to stop spitting orders. Not with what was riding on this. Not with what was at stake.
“Thank you,” I told him.
He cracked a grin, even though it was brittle. “Don’t worry, brother, I’m going to take great pleasure in tracking down this guy.”
I didn’t want to admit to him that I needed that information for myself. I needed to go this alone. I was the one who needed to get justice for Brianna.
“Just get me whatever you can.”
“You can count on that.”
Something passed through his expression, and I wondered if he understood. If he got it on some level. Then he gestured at me with his chin. “Now get some rest before Savannah here has my ass for keeping you up for too long.”