Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 145942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 730(@200wpm)___ 584(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 730(@200wpm)___ 584(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
“Yes. Talk,” he states, rolling his beautiful dark eyes. “There are a few things that clearly need to be discussed, and my hopes are to do that without you trying to make a run for it or stab me in the eye with your fork. I just want to eat and talk.”
The very second the word ‘eat’ pours out of his mouth, my stomach grumbles and I know that I won’t be able to resist. I glance over his shoulder, getting a good look at our surroundings. The diner is secluded, and the fact that we’re in a near empty lot with nothing else around us tells me that I’m completely fucked. I won’t be able to run anywhere without him catching me first.
I let out a sigh and move out into the fresh air, watching the way Carver hovers close by my side. “Fine. We’ll eat, but don’t expect me to play the role of your doting girlfriend. If I see an out while I’m in there, I’m taking it. I’m more than happy to leave your bitch ass behind.”
“Jesus Christ,” he murmurs, placing a hand on my lower back and leading me toward the diner. “Why does everything have to be so dramatic with you? Just sit your ass down in the booth and let me feed you so we can talk without your bullshit attitude.”
I scoff, hating the feel of his hand on my back. “Put yourself in my shoes, Carver. Imagine if the boys tried to fucking kill you and it came out of nowhere.”
He shakes his head. “They wouldn’t. We’re family.”
“Yeah,” I mutter. “Up until two days ago, I thought the same fucking thing.”
Carver grips my wrist and spins me so fucking fast that I barely have a chance to gasp before my back is slammed up against the glass window of the diner and his fury is bearing down on me. “Don’t you fucking say that,” he roars. “You know they would lay their lives down for you.”
“Then tell me that they had nothing to do with that fucking bomb. Tell me King didn’t set it, that they didn’t just turn their backs and drive away while my body was catapulted through the air. They betrayed me. You betrayed me. You’re not my family anymore. You’re as bad as Paris.”
His hand snaps around my throat and he pushes me back into the window even harder, yet for some reason, I know he won’t kill me. “We did what we had to fucking do to save your stupid ass. Don’t you confuse that with betrayal. We’re nothing like Paris.”
My brows furrow and my hands slam against his chest, forcing him back a step. And while my strength is no match for his, I’m grateful when he actually releases my throat and backs up. “What do you mean you had to do it to save me? We were safe in the cabin. That’s why we were there. The guys chasing us were all dead. We were fine.”
Carver presses his hands to his temple and steps back again, turning his back on me as he stares out at the empty lot. “FUCK,” he roars in despair, his anger bubbling up inside of him and getting the better of him. He turns back and the pain in his eyes is enough to have me falling back against the window again. “You weren’t fucking safe. None of them were.”
“That’s bullshit. I was always safe with you guys,” I demand. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Carver sighs and his hands fall to his sides as he steps in close to me. His hands find their favorite position on my waist as his forehead drops to my shoulder. “The car chase, the shooting, the fucking raid on your house, it was all a distraction. Paris knew we were never going to let her get close to you again, so she devised a sick fucking plan to get us all out of Ravenwood Heights, and we fell straight into her damn trap.”
I shake my head, my hand pressing against his chest to feel his heart racing. Despite how much I want to hate him, I just can’t. He draws me in. His pain is like a beacon screaming my name. “What happened?” I breathe, the fear rising up in my chest. Anything that could have a man like Dante Carver breaking has to be bad … so fucking bad.
He takes a deep breath and pulls back as his hand falls from my waist and digs into his pocket. He pulls out his phone and turns it to face me. “Right after we walked out of the cabin to do the perimeter search, all four of us got this exact same message.”
My brows furrow as I take the phone from him and glance down at the screen to find all seven of the boys’ siblings held in a dark and dirty room. Their eyes are blindfolded and their precious little mouths gagged with rope as they sit in straight back chairs all in a line, their wrists and ankles strapped down to keep them from running.