Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 113944 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113944 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
The problem was . . . Zander wasn’t sure if he really could. “Maybe I should take you to my pack’s territory. You could stay there.” Where she’d be safe and he wouldn’t have to smell her fucking blood every five minutes.
“And that isn’t all that different from me going to a safe house.” Gwen lifted her chin. “I’m not leaving here.”
Zander planted his hands on her shoulders. “Listen to me. You matter to me, Gwen. You don’t see that, I know, but it’s true. I have to know you’re safe and protected.”
“Yeah? Then pretend you don’t give a shit what Rory did. That’s what will protect me from him.”
Derren sighed. “I hate that she’s right, but she is. He’ll get what’s coming to him, Zander. He won’t get away with this. Not in the long run. We just have to be choosy about when we strike. Besides, one thing we can be sure he’ll do is come back—he’s intent on fucking with you. But now we know to keep an eye out for him. He won’t touch her again.”
Sensing that Zander wasn’t even close to calming, Gwen leaned into him and slid her arms around his waist. Resting her cheek on his chest, she said, “I really want to go home. Can we make that happen?”
Fighting to keep his touch gentle, Zander brushed her bangs away from her face. “Yeah. We can make that happen.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Kenny dabbed his mouth with a napkin and then wiped his fingers. Smiling, he leaned back in his chair and gestured from him to her. “This is nice, isn’t it?”
No, it wasn’t. Gwen just looked at him. It was the first time that he’d spoken since they’d chosen a table. They’d eaten in silence as customers chattered, oven timers beeped, cutlery clattered, and frothing machines whirred.
The bell repeatedly chimed as more and more people filed in. It was a busy place. Despite the long line to the register, the stainless-steel counter and bistro tables were always clean and clear of crumbs. Kenny had wanted them to meet at a local, upscale restaurant, but Gwen had declined. Instead, she’d chosen this bakery-slash-coffeehouse.
She loved the scents here—bitter coffee, donuts, fresh bread, and the various baked goods kept within the glass case. Any other time, she would have dived on her Danish and enjoyed it with relish, but she’d only managed to eat half—and it sat like lead in her stomach.
It was harder than she’d thought it would be to sit opposite the man in front of her and pretend she had no idea that he was an absolute monster who sponsored extremists. How Geena managed to be around him each and every day, Gwen didn’t know. But then, Geena saw something different when she looked at Kenny. She saw a father, her father. Gwen just saw a twisted asshole.
As he’d carefully eaten his apple pie like it was a rare delicacy, she’d studied him. She’d seen Kenny several times before, of course, though mostly from afar. There’d even been times when he’d come to the trailer to speak with Hanna. The first time he’d come, Hanna had afterward said dispassionately, “That was your dad, by the way.”
Gwen didn’t like that she had his eyes, but she was thankful they didn’t otherwise look alike. Tall and muscular, he seemed in pretty good shape for his age. His narrow face was shaven and carried scars that said he’d led a rough life. His stylishly cropped short dark hair was thin and dusted with gray; it kind of worked for him. Add in the tailored suit, and he looked more like an average businessman than a seedy, conscienceless drug dealer.
Two of his friends sat at the table adjacent to theirs. Zander and the other Mercury wolves were sitting at a corner table, subtly keeping an eye on her. She didn’t think Kenny was aware that they were there, or that he’d recognize them if they earned his attention. Despite the large distance between the wolves and Gwen, she was quite sure that the shifters would overhear her conversation with Kenny easily enough.
“Your mother’s mad that I’m meeting you today.” He crumpled up his napkin and set it on his empty plate. “She thinks we should leave you to have a good life.”
Officially abandoning her Danish, Gwen picked up the porcelain mug and sipped at her milky latte. A little powdered sugar still clung to her fingertips. The tiny napkins were shit. “I came here today because you said you had something important to tell me. You said it was about Geena.” He’d said what he thought would make Gwen meet him—she knew that. Still, she needed to play the game or he’d know that Geena had warned her.
“I may have lied about that.” The cell phone on the table chimed. He tapped the screen with his finger, quieting the device. His phone hadn’t stopped ringing since he’d arrived, but he canceled the call each time—giving her a pointed look that said this meeting was more important to him. Whatever.