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)
Maybe the guys were right not to trust me with saving their siblings. I probably would have fucked it up.
I storm right out the glass door and toward the SUV, my fists so tight that my brass knuckles hurt around my fingers. I just need to … fuck. I need to get it out. I need to …
“WINTER!”
I spin around to find Carver flying toward me, his brows drawn in concern. “You good?” he asks, moving in closer. Only with every step he takes, the realization gets clearer.
I shake my head and clench my jaw, desperately wishing I could drop to my knees and scream until all of it goes away. I don’t say a damn word, but I don’t need to. Carver has always been able to read me so clearly.
Without skipping a beat, he takes my hand and pulls me toward the side of the diner, away from the prying eyes inside. He comes to a stop and I stare up at him in confusion until he pulls off his shirt and stands before me with his arms out wide. “Give it your best shot.”
My eyes narrow and I slowly begin to shake my head. “Are you insane?” I demand, my lips pulling up in a confused sneer. I’m too fucking worked up to play his stupid games right now. “I’m not going to hit you. I just … I need …”
“You need to fucking hit something, so what the hell are you waiting for? I’m standing right here. Let’s get it over and done with so we can get out of here.”
“Despite the fact that you tried to blow me up, I don’t want to hurt you.”
Carver scoffs and I roll my eyes, knowing exactly what his scoff was for—the asshole doesn’t think I’m capable of hurting him. “Come on, Winter,” he says, his voice dropping low. “I know you don’t want to hurt me because even though you’re desperately trying not to feel it right now, you still fucking love me, and despite the hell you’ve put me through over the past two days, I’m still madly in love with you, which is exactly why I need you to do this.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Sure it does,” he mutters, taking my hand and folding it into a tight fist. “Every fucking minute of every fucking hour all I can think about is that cabin blowing up and your fragile little body flying through the sky. I have to live with myself knowing that I had a part in that, knowing that my selfish need to put my sisters’ safety above yours nearly cost you your life. You and I are too fucking stubborn. We’ll never get past this unless we force ourselves to do it. So here I am, in the flesh. You need this, and God knows I fucking deserve it.”
I let out a heavy breath and clench my jaw as I stare up at him. “Such a fucking martyr.”
“It’s a win-win situation, Winter. We’re both going to get what we need. We can’t lose.”
“I could slip and knee you in the balls again,” I mutter, the idea sounding better and better by the second.
“Okay,” he says, taking a slight step back. “In that case, let’s set some ground rules.”
I roll my eyes and stare up at him, hating that it has come to this, but I should have seen it coming. Carver is the king of self-loathing. He will find any excuse to blame himself for shit that was out of his control, then he’ll punish himself for years just to prove something, but in my experience, it’s usually something stupid. Hell, I’m sure he still hasn’t forgiven himself for accidentally shooting me, but as usual, it was out of his control. “Go on then,” I say, unable to resist the allure of releasing this wild rage building within me.
He gives me a hard stare. “Balls are out of bounds. They’ve already suffered enough for one day.”
I groan, the devastation all too real. “Anything else?”
He shrugs. “I mean, my face is pretty fucking gorgeous. It’d be a shame to mess it up.”
“Right,” I say, raising my hand and starting to pull off my brass knuckles. “Got it. I’ll aim for the heart.”
Carver stops me, placing his hand over mine and pushing my brass knuckles back into place. “Leave them,” he tells me, the darkness in his eyes shining brighter than ever before.
I watch him for a second. “You have some pretty fucked up demons living inside of you.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” he mutters under his breath, standing tall and nodding at me, letting me know he’s ready whenever I am.
I save his comment for another time and let out a shaky breath. I don't know how something so incredibly wrong can feel so right at the same time. There’s always been an understanding between Carver and me, and though this isn't the first time he’s offered his body as a punching bag, our relationship has changed so much since then. “It’s not too late to change your mind.”