Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 70263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Although the truth was, I’d gotten very lucky in that instance, in being able to leave. The bastard had been stronger, bigger. All it would’ve taken was my hands to be restrained and my bag tossed away, and I would’ve been at his mercy. I wasn’t strong in the physical sense, and the few self-defense moves I knew wouldn’t help me if somebody really wanted to hurt me.
“I’ll teach you how to fight.”
I felt my eyebrows rise to my hairline at his words. Teach me how to fight? It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him no, that fighting and violence were the last things I wanted. But was it really? I needed to learn to protect myself, not just from the Vegas shit, but all this other stuff now too.
“Nonnegotiable, Lina.”
I didn’t know if me defying him pissed him off or amused him. It was hard to read Arlo’s expressions the majority of the time, because he kept himself so closed off.
“Okay,” I said without any heat. I would’ve taken more of the self-defense classes in Vegas before fleeing, but funds and time hadn’t really allowed it. And as I stared at him, I knew without a doubt Arlo could kill somebody with his bare hands if need be. “But can you tell me why you’re doing this? Like, I understand the safety aspect, but why do you care? I’m a nobody.”
He just looked at me, not speaking, but there was this hard tension around him. I knew I’d still get no answers from him.
Fine, if he wanted to give me a hard time, then I’d just show him how stubborn I was. “I need to work on my next shift.” The hard set of his jaw told me he was about to argue, but I shook my head. “Listen,” I said before he could go into whatever spiel he was about to say to me. “I don’t know what mess I’m caught up in, because you won't tell me, but I know if you wanted to hurt me, I wouldn’t be in your apartment right now, eating a strawberry danish and drinking bitter-ass coffee.” His lips quirked slightly as if he was amused. “But I have to go to work. I can’t just not. It’s clear you’re not hard up for money,” I said and pointedly looked around his lavish penthouse apartment, “but I don’t have that luxury or privilege. I…” I stopped before I could say I was running and needed all the funds I could get.
His eyes narrowed marginally when I wouldn’t press on. It was very clear this man got what he wanted without anyone giving him shit about it, but I was already in a deep enough hole with my own problems, and then there was all this other stuff that was now laid in my lap. I just wanted to figure out how things were going to go and if they could even get better at this point.
But I wasn’t ready to give up on this. If he wanted to “keep me safe” and force me to stay, then there was one thing he’d learn about me, and that was I didn’t give up easily when I put my mind to something.
We were in this silent stare-off for a couple of seconds, and when he didn’t speak, I exhaled and just pressed on. “I have to work,” I said, softer this time, hating myself that I heard the defeat in my voice. “I know you said it’s not safe, and I’m not stupid, but you don’t understand, I have to make money.”
“If you’re in trouble, all you have to do is tell me and I can help.” His voice was low and deep, but I didn’t miss the edge, didn’t miss the danger lying underneath.
“Maybe I don’t want anyone’s help.” The words were so soft I didn’t even know if he heard, but when he spoke, I knew he had.
“Maybe sometimes we have to ask for help, even if we don’t want it.”
I was shaking my head before he finished but couldn't find the words to say anything. I looked around his incredible apartment, took in the natural light filling the space, noticed all the expensive, sleek appliances, and didn’t miss how everything screamed of wealth.
“You can’t possibly know how it feels to struggle.” I was assuming, and I shouldn’t. I knew nothing about Arlo, where he came from or how he’d grown up. When I looked back at him, I could see the hardness back in his eyes.
“I had some clothing delivered for you.”
He changed the subject so fast my head spun. He looked pointedly at my shirt and shorts. I didn’t bother asking how he knew my size to order me anything. “You can’t work out in those.” He lifted his gaze back to my face. “We’ll leave in an hour to teach you how to defend yourself, moy svet.”