Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 116254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Kai looked at Breck. “Come,” he ordered firmly. “Clearly they’ve mistaken you for someone else.” Breck didn’t budge though, as if unable to move, his death grip on Kai’s hand like a constricting vice.
“Like hell I did,” the guy laughed, coming to a stop. He looked Breck over with a confident grin. “I mean, with that jawline… and this drop-dead physique… I’d recognize him anywhere.”
“Obviously not, as he’s not who you think.”
Fan Boy smirked and shook his head. “No way. I’ve been obsessed with this guy since tenth fuckin’ grade. Got those abs”—he pointed to Breck’s stomach—“straight-up etched in my brain.”
Kai cast him a disbelieving look. “And you’ve seen my sub’s abs when, exactly?”
“Hello,” Fan Boy laughed. “I go to his games. You know how many times he lifts his jersey to wipe his face?” He turned to Breck and smiled. “You gotta remember me. Jackson? You signed my forearm with a Sharpie during playoffs.”
Breck swallowed and tightly shook his head. He was stiff as a board—and, quite possibly, not even breathing. What was worse, Kai could feel him trembling through their tightly clutched hands.
“I’m sorry, but you’re mistaken. He doesn’t play sports. Long hours at the gym have sculpted this beautiful body.”
“Bullshit,” Jackson countered, clearly angry now. He looked at Breck. “Go on. Tell me I’m wrong.”
“My sub,” Kai stated coolly, “speaks to no one but me.”
Sweat beaded Breck’s upper lip. He turned to Kai, and that’s when Kai saw it. The terror in his eyes. Breck was teetering on the brink of a panic attack.
“How fucking convenient,” Jackson snorted, elbowing his friend. “Prolly knows we’d recognize his voice.”
All around, others started to stare, several regarding Breck with openly curious eyes.
Goddamn it.
Kai turned. “Let’s go. These men are confused and won’t be dissuaded.”
“Wait! I can prove it!” Jackson reached for Breck’s sleeve. “The guy that I think he is has a tattoo on his—”
Kai caught his wrist in the blink of an eye. “Do. Not. Touch. Him,” he grated. “Now find your fucking manners and step the fuck back.”
“But—”
Two security guards appeared and grabbed Jackson’s arm. “Come with us.” It wasn’t a request.
Jackson balked. “What the fuck? What’d I do?”
His handler grunted. “You must be new.” He turned to Fan Boy’s friend. “I presume he’s with you?”
Grinding his molars, said friend shot Jackson a glower and stiffly nodded.
The guards cast him a withering glare.
“Both of you. Move your asses.” They shoved the guys forward, then turned to Kai. “Don’t worry. We’ll take care of this.”
As if the damage hadn’t already been done.
Kai inclined his head, then swept his stern gaze to those still watching. All eyes quickly diverted back to the frat boy and his friend. Kai looked at Breck. Still utterly motionless. His grip any tighter and he’d break Kai’s hand.
“Come,” he ordered, tugging Breck forward. He weaved them through the crowds, then stopped at a place where they could talk. “Hey.” He faced Breck fully. “Breathe. It’s okay.”
Breck shook his head, jaw clenched, his wide eyes frantic.
“Jeja, listen—"
Breck snarled and squeezed his hand exceptionally hard. He wanted out of there. Was telling Kai wordlessly, using the signal they’d agreed on earlier.
Kai exhaled. “Okay.” He headed for the exit, then led them across the street into the parking garage. Breck’s strides were stiff. No words were spoken. Only when Kai untied their hands and they’d climbed in the car did Breck finally get vocal.
“You promised me!” he shouted. “You swore it’d be safe! But it wasn’t fucking safe! You fucking lied!”
“Breck—”
“Shut. Up!” he bellowed. Feverishly, he grappled with his hood’s back buckle. “Just shut the fuck up and get this fucking thing off my head!” He was vibrating from head to toe. Rage and mortification pulsating off him in waves.
Kai unfastened the buckle, his heart constricting. Breck had every right to be upset. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I hadn’t anticipated that.”
Breck yanked off the hood and jerked around to glare at him. “Well, you should have,” he snapped. “Because now my ass is fucking screwed.”
“No.” Kai shook his head. Breck was wrong. “Just take some deep breaths and try to—”
“Don’t you dare fucking tell me to calm down! You don’t think that pissant’s gonna go run his mouth? Tell all his fucking friends what he saw? I mean, look at me!” He gestured furiously at his half-dressed body. “This is not the image I worked my ass off to convey!”
“Breck, listen to me. He won’t tell any—”
“The fuck he won’t! Especially now, when he’s so pissed that we lied!”
“He doesn’t know for sure—”
“Yes, he does. I saw it in his eyes. He had zero doubt.”
Kai sighed and rubbed his brow. “He can’t break confidence. He signed an agreement. It’s District law. They’ll remind him of this.”
Breck shook his head and looked away. “He’s a punk. He won’t care.” Covering his face, he emitted the most anguished sound. “Just get me out of here before I puke. Just fucking go.”