Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 127941 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127941 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
I lean down into him, prepared and ready to give him anything he needs. “What is it?” I whisper, barely getting the words out over the lump building in my throat.
“I … I’m not going to make it,” he forces out, looking up at me through narrowed slits, as his eyes roll into the back of his head from the amount of effort that took him. “Please, I just need to …”
“To what?” I rush out, the tears flowing freely. “What do you need? Please, Cruz. You’re going to make it. Don’t give up on me. I can’t do this without you.”
He squeezes my hand again and I search his face. “Say it,” he murmurs, his tone filled with pain. “I need to know if you love me.”
“I … fuck. Cruz, you know I fucking love you. I love you so badly that it hurts, but if you die … I …” A loud sob takes over and my head drops, unable to take the pain of what losing him would do to me. “I won’t be able to go on. Cruz, please. I need you to be okay.”
His eyes spring open as a wide grin stretches across his beautiful face. “Really?” he asks, trying to push up onto his elbow and groaning in pain. “You love me?”
I stare in confusion, looking over him and realizing all too late that the moronic fucker was just screwing with me. “What the fuck?” I screech, my gaze snapping up to Grayson’s to find his lips pressed into a tight line. “He’s not dying?”
Grayson shakes his head and smacks Cruz up the back of his. “Unfortunately, not today,” Grayson mutters. “He’s just got a few broken ribs, and once I’m through with him, I’m guessing a nasty as fuck concussion.”
Cruz’s grin stretches wider but the relief coursing through my veins is too great to even pretend to be mad at him. “You’re an asshole,” I tell him, dropping my head to his and capturing his lips in a gentle kiss.
“Yeah,” he laughs. “But you love me.”
I roll my eyes and sink into him, loving the way he ignores his pain to hold me back. “Not anymore,” I grumble, just as a loud screeching noise comes from behind us.
I twist around, sucking in a sharp breath as the road rash along my thigh screams for medical attention.
Carver’s attempting to tear the door right off the other car, and for a moment, I'd completely forgotten that the car was even there. King gets up to help him, and we watch on as an unconscious body is pulled from the driver’s seat.
I suck in a breath as Cruz whispers, “What the fuck,” from right behind me.
I stare in shock, unable to believe what I’m seeing, not just because the person is someone that I know, but because that person was blown up into a million pieces only a few short months ago.
That person is supposed to be dead.
CHAPTER 30
Knox Fucking Delacourt.
If I looked up his name in a dictionary, it would come up with worthless piece of shit, only put on earth to prove to everyone around him just how much of a sheep he is. Probably can’t satisfy a woman. Has no original thoughts and is easily bought. Sucks the cocks of low-life sex traffickers just to avoid a bullet between the eyes.
Well, I guess today is his unlucky day. No amount of cock sucking is going to get him out of the bullet I have planned for him. Though, I should probably do the right thing and allow Cruz to take the lead on this one. After all, I’ve already beaten his ass and attempted to have him blown up for his crimes committed against me, but today, Cruz is the one who got hurt. He deserves to be the one to pull the trigger—or gut, burn, and torture him. Whatever floats his boat.
The onlookers flurry around us, moving in to check on Cruz and me, while others rush in to watch the mayhem. We hear sirens in the distance and Carver instantly meets my stare, giving a quick nod in the direction of the bushes.
We can’t get caught by the cops. That’ll only bring more unwanted attention our way, especially when they’re going to discover that the other driver who was pulled out of the car has mysteriously gone missing. My bike and the Escalade are both registered in Carver’s name so the cops already know we were involved, plus the way that Knox’s beat-up car has rammed right into us at an incredible speed—it doesn’t look good. I don’t want to be here to see what happens next. Besides, I know I’m innocent in this particular incident, but something tells me that they will find something to pin on me and I’ll be in for another night behind bars. I’m just not down for that.