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)
“Stop,” I tell him, tugging on his hand to make him come closer. He does just that, and I pull him right in until my lips are brushing over his. “I’m not going anywhere,” I whisper, pulling back just a bit and staring into his gorgeous green eyes.
Cruz holds my stare for a second before finally nodding and dropping back into his seat.
I look around the room, scanning quickly past Carver’s intense stare. “Trust me,” I murmur into the room. “I do care. I care so much that it freaking hurts. You guys are quickly becoming my world that I can’t even bear the thought of being without you, but I can’t linger on it. I can’t linger on what happened today because I will crumble, and I can’t do that because we still have so much to worry about. I let her get away. We had my mother right there and I should have done something more to get to her, but I froze. She put that fucking knife to my throat and I just … froze.”
“Don’t do that,” King demands. “Had you made even the smallest move—she would have ended you. You did exactly what you were supposed to do.”
I shake my head. “I could have looked around when I got out of my hiding spot, or fuck, I should have just stayed hidden in the fucking pantry.”
“That’s on me,” Cruz says, his tone dropping as his gaze falls to our hands. “I was the one who told you it was clear. I gave you a false hope that you were safe and I have to live with that for the rest of my life. I should have stayed back to protect you while the guys swept the house.”
“Stop,” Grayson says, sitting forward in his chair. “Everyone blaming themselves for shit isn’t helping us get anywhere. None of us are at fault here, especially not you, Carver, but right now, Ellie is our main focus. We need her to get better. We can come up with a plan to get to London later.”
“I told you, I’m fine,” I snap at him, knowing damn well that the boys will sneak out of here and work out a plan without me, leaving me out of the loop and in the dark, all under the pretense of trying to keep me safe. “The longer we wait, the more time she has to devise her next plan of attack. We need to get her now. We can’t just sit here for God knows how long, turning a blind eye until I get better. We have to make a move. What if it’s you guys she goes for next? I couldn’t bear that.”
King shakes his head. “She won’t go for us,” he insists. “It’s a waste of time. She gains nothing by doing that except by taking away part of your protection. We’re good.”
“But—”
A nurse pushes past Carver and all conversation falls away. She meets his heavy, intense stare as she goes, and in that split moment, I feel sorry for her. I’ve been on the receiving end of that stare more times than I can count and it’s not easy, add the self-hatred that’s pulsing through his veins, and that stare might as well be lethal.
“Ahh …” the nurse starts, looking flustered as she weaves through the room and makes her way toward my bed. She scoops my chart off the end and quickly glances over it before raising her head and meeting my stare. “How are you feeling, Elodie?”
“It’s Winter.”
Her brows furrow and she looks at me strangely before quickly glancing at the guys just to make sure she heard me correctly. “I’m sorry?”
“My name,” I tell her, wondering how the hell to explain this to an outsider. “Elodie is my legal name. I go by Winter.”
“Oh, um … sure,” she says, grabbing her pen and making a note of it in my chart, then dropping it back into place at the end of my bed. She walks around to my side and checks over a bunch of things that I can’t even begin to understand the purpose of. “I’m Rachel, I’ll be looking after you today, so anything you need, just press the button and I’ll be here.”
I nod, not down for small talk.
“Have you only just woken up?” she asks, reaching for the blankets and slowly peeling them back. “I just need to check your stitches. Would you prefer I clear the room first?”
I don’t even bother looking up at the guys, I know exactly what would happen if this innocent nurse attempted to kick them out, and for her health and wellbeing, I shake my head. “No, it’s fine,” I tell her, raising my head just a bit to see what she sees.
“Alright,” she continues. “I’m just going to raise your gown.”