Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
But that didn’t mean that I wouldn’t protect Nastya. I would choose Nastya over anyone, no matter what. She would not go down for this crime, and I would make sure of it.
“I’m done,” she said. “If I find anything else, I’ll have it brought to you, but it won’t be by me.”
Shasha and I both nodded.
“Good,” I said. “Be safe, Sutton. Keep your nose clean, and don’t do anything crazy.”
Sutton smiled sadly. “I’m not that person anymore, Haze. John broke her.”
Then she was gone, leaving the office, and closing the door behind her.
“What side are you on, Haze?” Shasha asked. “I can’t go any further than this until I know.”
I turned to my soon-to-be brother-in-law.
“I’m going to marry your sister,” I said. “I’m going to kill the senator. I’m going to find every single person that has put her life in danger, and I’m going to kill them. Slowly. I’m going to leave carnage in my wake, and I’m not going to shed a single fuckin’ tear when I wind up in prison.” I paused. “As long as you promise me that my ex-wife doesn’t hurt my daughter.”
Shasha studied me for a long moment before saying, “I think we can do this in a way that won’t implicate you.”
My brows rose. “Yeah?”
“I think that I’ve had my sights set on that senator since he brought my baby sister into this dangerous game, and I have better uses for you as a police officer,” he said.
“I won’t kill for the hell of it. I won’t give you information on good people. And if you put Nastya in danger, I’ll make sure that’s the last thing you’ll ever do,” I vowed.
“I won’t ask you to do anything you’re not comfortable with,” he promised. “And you’d be welcome to kill me if I ever hurt her.”
I nodded. “Now, tell me about this plan you have in mind.”
Shasha smiled.
I don’t care what you found. I want my oil changed and that’s it.
—Nastya’s secret thoughts
NASTYA
“Do you prefer to be on top or on bottom?” I teased.
He flipped me, my back landed on the bed, and I giggled at the taunting in his eyes.
“A pancake isn’t cooked until it’s been done on both sides.” He chuckled.
My heart rate accelerated and I had to busy myself with holding onto his bulky biceps to keep my thoughts from straying to a different time and place.
“All right, Daddy,” I bantered, hoping that he didn’t hear how freaked out I was.
His eyes gleamed. “I don’t think I should like how much I like that.”
I winked at him. “It’s okay. We can like what we want to like and we don’t have to apologize for it.”
His expression sobered, though.
His hard cock was nestled between my legs, pressing against my most sensitive parts, but Haze ignored both his placement, and my earlier willingness, and studied my face and eyes.
“This isn’t a race, sweetheart,” he said softly, his eyes soft and understanding. “We’ll get there. And when we do, I’ll be there waiting. You don’t have to worry about me, I’m perfectly fine.”
I swallowed hard. “I want to forget.”
Why couldn’t I forget?
“I don’t think that’s something you forget, Mama,” he said. “But until you get your fear under control, and don’t freak out when your heart rate starts to accelerate, we’re going to be a-okay.”
God, what did I do to deserve a man that was as understanding as Haze?
Jesus, it’d been a week now since the incident—and I called it the incident because everything else reminded me of terror and heartache—and I still couldn’t get out of breath, or have my heartbeat go outside of resting range, without my fight-or-flight mode being activated.
It was weird, and I didn’t like it.
“We don’t have time anyway,” he said. “I have to get Desi to school, and then I have to go to that hearing with the judge to discuss Desi staying with me permanently.”
“Are you sure that’ll take only a half hour? It doesn’t seem like that’s something you should rush,” I said as I got out of bed and got dressed.
I chose a 7/8ths pair of leggings that stopped right above my ankle bone, scrunchy winter socks that covered the gap in my leggings, a long-sleeved Vuori t-shirt that Maven had gotten me for my birthday last year, and a trendy brown crop jacket that I’d gotten for a review over the winter last year. I threw my hair up high in a ponytail, slathered on mascara and moisturizer, and shoved my feet into my new favorite pair of platform Birkenstocks that I was writing a review on later.
All of my packages had been sent to Shasha’s office.
Every last one of them was opened, logged, and thoroughly checked before they were then distributed to me once they were deemed safe.
I’d had Shasha’s secretary coming over once every day to drop them all off, and she’d expressed more than once that she was having the time of her life going through all my things.