Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 44963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
“World’s a funny place,” Andrew says, looking closely at me.
I return his gaze. “Certainly is. Full of pretenders.”
He flinches, then nods, accepting my words.
We sit quietly for a time. Then a thought occurs to me. A possible explanation for my woman’s reaction.
“Who’s going to miss you back home?” I ask.
“Violet has college,” Andrew replies. “As for me, nobody’s close. After Olivia passed… I retreated into myself. I found it difficult to make friends. I focused on my work, and since my so-called work colleagues are the ones who want me dead, I doubt they would.”
I nod. “What about Violet… any boyfriends?”
Andrew narrows his eyes. I wonder if he can tell I’m asking out of more than curiosity, wonder if he knows how badly I want the answer to be no.
Andrew shakes his head. “Not that I know of.”
“Is she the sort to have a boyfriend and not tell you about it?” When he stares, I go on, “This could be important. If there’s somebody out there looking for her, I’ll need to warn them to be careful. The mob could find out and use him as leverage.”
This is true, but it’s far from being the full story. It doesn’t explain the tightening of my fist, the pulsing in my temples, the volcano threatening to erupt if the answer’s yes. If she has a boyfriend, I don’t know how I’ll handle it.
“Violet has never had a boyfriend as far as I know,” Andrew says, “and she’d tell me. We’re close. After her mom…”
“I’m sorry,” I say.
He pauses, head tilted, as though he doesn’t fully believe me.
“I am. Nobody deserves to lose the woman they love.”
I feel that sentiment deeply now that I’ve met my woman.
“Thanks, Luke,” he says. “I just hope Violet can survive this. She’s been through a lot already.”
“What do you mean?”
Andrew shakes his head. “It’s not my place to say. Just be patient with her. She didn’t ask for any of this. She doesn’t deserve it.”
No, she deserves a life where her man provides for her every single day, where her man supports her, protects her, and helps her grow in whichever direction she chooses. She deserves the world.
“I know,” I say.
I could leave it at that. Andrew isn’t alluding to anything, so neither should I. Keep it in the dark, the place I’ve operated my whole life with no issues. I switch off certain sections of my mind, the whispers that tell me I want more—a family, kids one day, the sort of future I thought I killed when I took my first life. That was before Violet and her sassiness and her shyness and her pain and her everything. That was before her.
Standing, I place my hand on the back of the chair, gripping it as if it’s the throat of any bastard who would ever dare to hurt her.
“Whatever happens, I’ll keep her safe.”
Andrew flinches at my tone, staring into my eyes. I return his gaze steadily.
“Whatever happens, no matter who they send for us, no matter how long this lasts, I won’t let anything happen to her. I’ll fight with everything I have to make sure she comes out of this alive. You have my word.”
He swallows, nodding. “Thank you, Luke.”
CHAPTER TEN
Violet
I stand at the top of the stairs, my mouth falling open comic book style as I listen to Luke’s words.
He promised to keep me safe, to fight for me no matter what, but it’s more than that, more than the words themselves. It was his tone, the deep growl in it, the same noise he made when our lips were pressed close in the forest, his hard body pressed against mine as he claimed me with his possessive lips.
Dad sounds so accepting of this, even thanking Luke. What other choice does he have? Return to the city, return to the mob, and take the consequences? The next man they send after us won’t want to kiss me. He won’t want to protect me.
I return to my bedroom, sitting at the desk. Like the last place, it’s a tidy room, if a little dusty. I’ve opened the windows a crack to air it out, an icy cool drifting through the window, keeping me alert for my studies. Switching on the lamp, I sit in the light. I won’t be able to sleep, anyway.
I turn at the knock on my door. It’s heavy and firm. I know it’s Luke without having to call out.
“Yes?” I say.
“Are you hungry?”
His tone is flat, not like it was downstairs when he was talking to Dad, when he promised to never let anything happen to me.
“I’m fine.”
“You have to eat something.”
“I’m studying,” I say. “Or trying to, anyway.”
The handle turns. “I’m coming in…”
I could tell him no. I could yell it, and I bet he’d back off.
Instead, he pushes the door open, filling the doorframe with his hulking form. I like the way he holds his hands at his sides, as if he’s ready to snap into action any second, whether that’s to grab a gun, squeeze onto my hips again, or try to move his hand up between my legs.