Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 37123 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 186(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37123 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 186(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
“Nicole.”
“I fell.”
His eyes hold mine unflinchingly, so full of something warm and comforting, and yet also so fierce and protective. And slowly, I cave.
“There was a guy,” I say softly.
Instantly, fire ignites in his eyes.
“He did this?”
I nod slowly, and Killian snarls.
“He’s fucking dead.
“Killian…”
“No, no…” he snarls. “Not fucking okay.”
I chew on my lip, and he pulls me into him.
“Hey,” he whispers softly, holding me tightly. “Sorry, I just…” he frowns. “My dad,” he growls. “He used to hit our mother. A lot.”
My heart breaks a little as I slide closer to him, holding him tight. “I’m so sorry,” I say gently before I look up. “Our?”
“My brother, Conall. Our dad was a hard fucker.”
“I’m so sorry,” I murmur, kissing his chest. “Dads are…” I shrug. “Families can really suck, can’t they?”
He smiles softly. “I’ve grown up to realize families are who you choose to keep around you.”
“Like your gang?”
He smirks. “Yeah. My brothers.”
“And your actual brother. Is he in the club too?”
Killian shakes his head. “No, he’s out west right now, sort of doing his own thing.”
He leans down, kissing me softly and gently, which is almost surreal given his size and just how fierce he is. I melt into him, sliding my arms around his neck as he pulls me close. We stay just like that for I don’t even know how long before he slowly pulls away.
“I need to call and check in, see what’s up.”
“Yeah, okay. I should probably call my parents.”
Killian stiffens a little, and I grin.
“It’s not like I was planning on telling them about…” I blush. “You know, anything.”
“Why not?” He chews on his lip. “Nicole, I did take you, bound and gagged, out of that condo.”
“There was a car trunk involved, too, if I’m not mistaken,” I add jokingly.
He frowns, but I grin as I slide into him, kissing him softly.
“I’m not sure, I guess.”
“You don’t feel an urge to tell your parents that a big mean thug stole you away?”
“Yeah, not really.”
He arches a brow, and I shrug.
“You’ve never met my parents,” I grumble.
Killian smiles, leaning down to kiss me. “Call away, princess. Your phone is in the saddlebag. I’ll be right outside calling the club.”
He moves close and kisses me slow and softly, before it deepens to something hard and fierce. He pulls back, grinning at me and sending butterflies through my stomach.
“Then after… breakfast?”
I nod, smiling from ear to ear. “Sounds perfect.”
Chapter Ten
Killian
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
“Yeah,” I growl, running a hand over my hair and then raking my fingers down the stubble on my chin.
“How many?” Owen growls.
I frown, thinking back to the madness of the gunfight. Two from the front door, two coming in the kitchen side door, the two in the car, and then the one, maybe two I got through the windows. “Seven, maybe eight?” I mutter.
“Shit, Killian,” he swears into the phone.
“Well, they’re dead.”
“And wheat about the girl?”
“She’s with me. We’re good.”
“Where are you?”
“Further out on the Cape. I decided to keep some space between us and Boston with what just went down.”
“Yeah, smart.”
“Hey, you sure I can’t get Grey’s burner number? I should fill him in about all of—”
“Nah, sorry, brother. He wanted me to take point on everything while he’s gone. And you know Grey with OpSec. No sharing the phone means no sharing the fucking phone, you know?”
I grin. Yeah, I know, and I know Grey and his hardline with rules.
“So, where are you?”
I glance around as I lean against the bike. “Just outside Orleans at this little motel called the Crab Shack Inn.
Owen snorts. “Sound like a nice place. You having fun?”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“You know what the fucking I mean. I saw your intel stuff on Leonard. I’ve seen the girl you’ve got in that little cozy motel, pal. So, you having some fun?”
I force a laugh. “Nah, man. This is business.”
I frown. I’m not sure why I’m not telling him about Nicole, and whatever this is. Maybe it’s a just a desire to keep the club and my life in the Bastards separate from the goodness that Nicole is.
“Just trying to say alive, man.”
Owen clears his throat, and I can hear the sound of his Zippo lighting a cigarette.
“Well, sit tight. I’ll talk to Grey and we’ll figure out what the fuck to do next here with the daughter. When Leonard figures out she’s been taken, shits going to—”
“Nah, he won’t know she was taken or anything. We’ve got it sorted.”
He pauses.
“What do you mean ‘we’ve’ got it sorted?”
“Nic—the girl, she’s calling her folks, and she’s just telling them she headed back to New York.”
The phone is silent for a long, long few seconds.
“I’m sorry, fucking what?”
“Owen, I know how it sounds, but Nicole is good with this. She’s fully aware of who her dad is and the people he works with. I’m outside, she’s in the motel room calling her parents right now, and—”