Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Theo.
He had a paper bag in his hand like he’d picked up sandwiches while he was out and about. “Hungry, sweetheart?”
Only for you. “Sure.”
We took our usual seats in the gallery, sitting across from each other in the leather armchairs. As usual, he held his huge sandwich in a single hand because he was big enough to do it. He took bite after bite, devouring the whole thing in just a couple of minutes. Whenever he chewed, he looked at me, comfortable in our silence.
I was relieved he’d gotten me a children’s size because that was all I could eat. I used his gym in the morning to run my three miles, but that was the extent of my athletic abilities. There had been one time I had run on the treadmill while he lifted, and I’d almost tripped and slammed my face into the running belt because I was so distracted. He stacked so much weight on the bars then lifted it all, his skin flushing red and his veins popping from the exertion. He did his sets, his arms getting plumper with the blood that flooded his muscles.
“Are you nervous?” I asked.
“No.” He rolled up the paper and crumpled it in his hand.
“How can you not be nervous—”
“Because I’m too pissed off to be nervous,” he snapped at me out of nowhere. “Because I’ve wanted to kill him with my bare hands since the moment I saw what he did to your face. Because taking his soul from his body is the only way I can forgive myself for failing you. Because he killed my brother and burned his bones, and I won’t stop until he gets the same. That’s why I’m not nervous, Astrid.”
The rage in his eyes made me look away. I felt like I’d crossed an invisible boundary.
“Even if you asked me not to do it, I don’t think I could.”
I’d loved Bolton so much, and it was still hard to believe that love had died so suddenly. But it did. It died the moment he raised his hand to me. The love and respect that somehow survived his infidelity had been irreparably destroyed in that moment. “I want him dead as much as you do, Theo.”
“I really don’t think you do, sweetheart.”
I wouldn’t ask him to make it quick. Wouldn’t ask for mercy. I’d asked Bolton for mercy, and he refused to give it to me. And he’d done worse things than strike me and throw me into the fridge. “Please be careful. Don’t underestimate him. I know he’s not as big as you are, but he’s smart. One of the smartest men I’ve ever met.”
“Trust me, I don’t underestimate him. If he hurt his own wife, then he’s capable of anything.”
I wasn’t sure if I could make it through the night without knowing if he was okay. I wasn’t sure if I could sleep, let alone breathe, until I knew it was done. “What if we just leave? Move to Croatia or Mykonos…just avoid it altogether.”
With his elbows on the armrests, he massaged his knuckles. “Do I look like a man who runs, sweetheart?”
“No.”
“Because I don’t run from anyone. They run from me.”
“I just—”
“You don’t think I can win.” He cocked his head slightly as he looked at me, the disappointment heavy like storm clouds.
“That’s not it.”
“It sounds like it.” His voice rose in anger.
“It’s not,” I said quietly.
“I would have killed him that night if I’d known you were okay with it. I had to fight him with one hand behind my back, and I still won. And you think I can’t—”
“It’s not that I don’t think you can, Theo. But you’re the single most important person in the world to me, and there are no words to describe how fucking devastated I would be if you didn’t come back. If you were killed…because of me.” My eyes started to water. “I’m scared. Never been so scared in my life, okay? He kills people for a living. He’s a professional. He lurks in the dark and takes people before they even know he’s in the room. He’s a sneak and a coward. He doesn’t come at his opponents head on like you do.”
His eyes were locked on me, and his steam seemed to have evaporated.
I wanted to tell him I loved him again, but I’d already said it too many times. It was a miracle he hadn’t run off.
He let the silence continue, his dark eyes steady on mine.
I looked away, unable to handle that stare a moment longer.
“Sweetheart.”
After a breath, I shifted my stare back to him.
“I’ll come back to you. I promise.”
“Don’t make a promise you can’t keep—”
“Other men can’t,” he said. “I can.”
I looked away again, wanting to hold on to that promise like a life raft out at sea.