Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 106330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
I fell back and then caught myself. My teeth sank into the side of my cheek. I forced myself to stand there, waiting for him, but half of me wanted to run away while the other half was leaning toward him.
He moved closer, and the light from the door illuminated his face. The door was behind me, so the light was mostly blocked, but there was a small slit from where the door was attached to the doorframe. It wasn’t a lot, and the small light disappeared as he moved even closer, stopping just in front of me. I still couldn’t fully make out his face, but that split second of vision had been enough.
Dark.
Brooding.
Deadly.
Gorgeous.
Molten dark eyes, angular high cheekbones, a strong jaw, lips that seemed to rest just perfectly while waiting to be curved high into a smile or to be pulled down into a frown.
As he came toward me, his lips showed neither emotion. He was just watching me back. My eyes traced his silhouette. He was still tall and lean, but his shoulders were bigger than I remembered. His shirt hugged to his form, showing how cut he was. He looked even more like a deadly weapon than he had been before going into prison.
His eyes narrowed, and I could feel him assessing me. I glanced down to the floor, wondering what he was thinking as he took me in. The streetlights were behind him but facing me. He could make out my face, my body, my everything.
My teeth sank even more into my cheek. What did he see when he looked at me?
He murmured, “He’s not?”
“He’s not.” That came out like an annoyed huff. I flushed, not intending it to be like that.
I could hear Snark yelling at me in my head. I needed to get away. I couldn’t see Kian. He was a part of his team, the evil lawyers who wanted to blame everything on me.
I began to edge for the door. What had I been thinking?
“You look different.”
I stopped. “So do you.”
Through the darkness, I caught how the side of his mouth lifted into a half-grin. It moved back down, and he stepped closer to me. He was looking down at me. There was still space between us. I couldn’t feel his body heat. Another person could’ve wedged their way between us.
“Why did you come see me? How did you even know where I was? Or recognize me?” There. Finally, I was sounding like an adult. There was the golden question that I wanted answered.
He didn’t answer.
He continued to study me. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I felt his scrutiny.
“To make sure you were all right. I hired a private detective, and I helped him out. I thought you might be going here. I remembered one of your speeches in school was about how much you loved this school, and I knew it was you.”
I was stunned. “Really?” He remembered that? And he just knew it was me? How do I digest all of that?
“And to let you know that you don’t need to be scared of me.” His voice softened, and he closed the distance.
I could feel his body heat, and I could make out his face. Those eyes, I gulped again, I’d forgotten the power they had in the courtroom. He was looking into me, like only he could read my thoughts, know my feelings, and understand me. He knew me. That was how I was feeling again. A sense of feeling sheltered flowed through me. It pushed out the fear and coldness. I was beginning to grow warm, wanting to close the distance.
I never touched him before.
Not a hug. Not a handshake. Nothing.
Well, that wasn’t true. He gave me his shirt after killing Edmund. Mine ripped, so he lent me his. I never gave it back. It was a secret that I never shared with anyone. That shirt was still in my room, in the same box as my Taser. The irony wasn’t lost on me. One keepsake from him next to a weapon to use against him.
He kept going, “My parents and my lawyers don’t want me anywhere around you, but I had to come. I needed to make sure that you knew not to be scared of me. I…what I did, I know it was shocking. I shocked myself. I still don’t quite know what happened. I remember what I did. I remember doing it, but before it happened and the events leading up to it, those are still a blur, even after two years.”
Hearing him now, I was surprised. The lawyers hadn’t let him take the stand.
“I’ve seen doctors who told me that my brain doesn’t want to feel whatever I was feeling before it happened. I remember hearing you and opening the door. Then it’s blank. I-I just don’t want you to be scared of me. That’s all.”