Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 34955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
She blinked her eyes, shifting to him and then back to me. The pink tip of her tongue darted out, wetting the lips I worshiped like many did a god. She was my higher power.
“I,” her voice soft and unsure. I was wrong. Someone wouldn’t die. There would be several.
I inhaled sharply through my nose, taking a step closer to her and reaching out to touch her face. She was afraid to tell me. I could see it there now. Who was she protecting?
“Tell me,” I urged.
She swallowed hard, and I ran my hand to her neck to feel it move.
“We need to talk about some things you’ve done. For me. Things,” she paused as pain sliced through her expression. “Things you did because of me.”
This was about me. What did she know? Better yet, who had told her?
“Who?” I bit out through clenched teeth.
“That’s not,” my brother started to say, and I swung my gaze to his, silencing him.
“You can go,” I told him.
He looked back at Capri with clear concern, but I knew it wasn’t for her. He feared my wrath for whoever had spoken to her. Told her things she should never hear.
“The who isn’t something I am going to tell you, Thatcher,” her voice sounded stronger than before. The slant toward fierce almost made me smile. If she wasn’t protecting someone, I would have. I loved it when my kitten pretended to be a tiger.
I stared down at her, my hand tightening around her neck, not to hurt her but so that I could feel her pulse under my palm. The way it quickened. It’s existence, my source of life.
“Thatcher,” she said my name as if a plea, and her small hand touched the one I had on her throat.
“I’m listening, little doll.”
“Jesus, Thatcher, you don’t want to hurt her. Stop,” Sebastian said behind me.
A dark chuckle came from deep in my chest, but I didn’t look at him. I tilted my head as I held Capri’s gaze.
“He isn’t hurting me,” Capri told him but kept her eyes on me. She knew that I wasn’t in a state of mind that I could handle her looking at anyone else. Even my brother. “It’s fine. You can go.”
The sour scent that met my nose registered in my thoughts, and I turned my head to look for the source. Vomit was inches away behind Capri. My attention snapped back to her. I needed answers now.
“You’re sick?”
She shook her head barely. “No, but the things you did.” She stopped, and her eyes turned a darker shade of gray.
“What things?” I asked this time instead of who had told her. I’d find that out on my own. I just needed to know what it was that had her so upset she was throwing up.
“Les,” she said his name on a whisper. Her gaze watched my face as if it would give her the answers. Ah, my little doll, you should know me better than that by now. My reactions were never displayed on my face.
“Touched you,” I told her. “No one is allowed to touch you.”
She closed her eyes a moment and took a deep breath. “Thatcher,” she said my name as they opened back up. “I don’t even remember him touching me. If he did, it was an accident. Or because he was helping me with a horse. I don’t know. But his finger,” she said the last word and winced. “That’s not okay. I have to live with that. Me. That is my fault.”
The agony in her eyes felt as if she was ripping open my chest.
“Nothing I do is your fault,” I told her, sliding my hand down to her collarbone and then her arm. “It was one finger. Not his hand.” It would have been if King hadn’t shown up and snapped me out of it. I’d been set on taking every finger slowly before I took his hand off at the wrist.
“That’s not okay,” she said, raising her voice. “Can’t you see how that is not okay? It is… it’s messed up.”
Perhaps, but so was I.
“Christopher,” she said his name, and her eyes glistened with tears.
It felt as if ants covered every inch of my body. “Don’t cry over another man,” the growl tore from me, and my grip on her arm was too tight. But I couldn’t make myself release her.
“I’m not,” she whispered. “I’m crying because of what you did to him. Again, because of me. I have to live with that, Thatcher. The weight of it makes it hard for me to take a deep breath.”
With my hold on her arm, I shook her. Not too hard. Just enough to get it through to her that my sins weren’t hers. “NO,” I snarled the word. “My actions are not yours to carry.”
She let out a small sob, and I released her arm, afraid I was hurting her. Panic at the thought I’d held her too tightly edged into my current rage, and I took her wrist to hold her arm out for my inspection.