Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
There’s no chance for me to tell him to mind his own damn business before Leni’s soft footsteps ring out down the hall. It’s actually kind of funny, the way he quickly smooths out his expression, like he doesn’t want her to see him so stressed. She’s not a child—she knows what’s going on. He wants to protect her from that. I guess I can relate. There’s a lot I would like to protect her from, too.
Starting with myself.
Her gaze darts away as soon as it lands on me, and the color in her cheeks tells me she’s either embarrassed or pissed off. Maybe both. Her reaction has an interesting effect on me: on the one hand, I can understand it. If anything, the way she can’t let it go and pretend nothing is wrong makes me respect her more. She’s not a pushover; she’s not weak. I always knew she had strength in her, but now I see it.
On the other hand, I’ve killed for her. I put myself in danger for her, exposed myself to outsiders who thought I was dead. That was a huge risk—something could’ve gone wrong. I didn’t even stop to think about what it might mean for me. I went after her. I called Colt for her sake, and I took a punch to the jaw for it. I think that earns me at least a little forgiveness.
“Are you guys going back there?” She asks with her back turned while she pours herself coffee, but there’s tension in every line of her body. Her shoulders are up close to her ears, her jaw clenched until she practically has to force the words out.
“We have to,” I reply while looking at my brother for confirmation. “We can’t leave the bodies where they are.”
“Do me a favor and don’t talk about it in front of me, okay?” Dipping a spoon into the mug, she stirs like the coffee did something to offend her. “The less I know, the better.”
“You don’t have to worry about that.” When Colt gets up and wraps his arms around her from behind, the strangest feeling washes over me. No, it doesn’t wash over—it hits me like a truck. There’s no way to describe it more gently than that. It’s one thing to watch him fuck her when we’re taking turns, and my cock is in her mouth. It’s another thing to witness this intimacy. Like they’re a real couple, which I guess they are from the way he’s described it.
What is this feeling? It’s not anger. I don’t hold it against him.
The uncomfortable pressure in my head only gets worse when she lets her head fall back against his chest. Her eyes close, and a smile touches the corners of her mouth. I would swear I’m about to explode. Heat blazes in me, racing through me like I’m nothing but dry tinder.
It can’t be jealousy. I’m not a jealous person. Whatever I want, I can have.
At least, that used to be true. In my old life, with my old face. When I didn’t have to hide from the world.
That’s not my life anymore. It never will be again. Why does he get to have the life I used to have? And he expects me to want to stay here with them? What, so I can be reminded every day of what’s never going to be mine?
I have to force myself to swallow that burning feeling, since there’s other shit we have to do. “We better get moving,” I announce, finishing my coffee and getting up to leave the mug in the sink. “I’ll shower when we get back. We’ve already hung around too long.”
I have to pretend I don’t notice the way Leni flinches when I come close. How could she fuck me the way she did, then act this way now? I don’t get her. Colt has had seven months to get to know her better. I wonder if I’ll ever get the chance to catch up, if she’ll even let me try.
Colt waits until we’re in the car to murmur, “Give her a little time. She’ll loosen up.”
“Who said I was worried about that?”
“Did we meet yesterday for the first time? I saw the way you were looking at her upstairs.” He won’t look at me, and there’s nothing in his voice that gives me a hint of what he’s thinking.
“She told me not to expect her to forgive me right away,” I confess, peering out at the world from under my hood.
“Wow. I wish I knew some advice I could give you on that.”
“That’s my problem to deal with, not yours. You’re not the one who fucked up the way I did.”
“Listen. If there’s one thing I know about her, it’s how forgiving she is. If she wasn’t, why would we be together?” he points out. “Give her time. I’m sure she already understands you didn’t mean to get her mom involved.”