Moth to a Flame Read Online K. Webster

Categories Genre: Billionaire, Contemporary, Dark, New Adult Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 57943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
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“You have to take me to have my eyes looked at,” he choked out. I refrained from overtly ogling him now that he was speaking to me.

“What? No!” I replied quickly. “You brought this on yourself, so you can figure it out on your own.”

I flung open my car door, ready to leave him standing there, when he stopped me with his next words. With a gentleness that was so opposite of his initial reaction to the mace, he pleaded, “Please. I’m new here. I wouldn’t even know where to go.”

Against my better judgment, I caved.

THIS GIRL WAS absolutely batshit crazy, but there was no way in hell she was going to leave me here blind after she maced the hell out of me.

“Please,” I asked again, managing to sound pretty pathetic. I ran both hands through my dark hair, worrying about how I might very well get left out here.

But after a slight delay, she huffed out her resignation. “Fine, but the hospital is across town and I live just up the road. I’ll take you to my place and you wash up while I Google a remedy. Once you can see, I will bring you back to your truck. No funny business, mister, or so help me, I’ll spray you blind!” she threatened in her small voice, which tried desperately to sound tough. She was quite the spitfire.

Her rehearsed ferocity had me holding back a chuckle.

Who is this chick?

“Miss, please call me Cale,” I said, reaching out to her blurry figure with one hand while furiously rubbing the other eye.

She hesitated before sliding her tiny hand into mine. “Lia. Lia Finch,” she replied, shaking my hand with surprising strong grip. This girl was taking the tough-girl act to a whole new level.

What is she so spooked about that has her ready to unleash Death by Mace to anyone who speaks to her?

She surprised me when she grabbed my forearm and walked me to the other side of the car, helping me get in. Once she settled me into the front seat and then climbed in on her side, she muttered an apology before starting the car and driving us towards her house. I just nodded my acceptance. This chick had issues, but I couldn’t help but be intrigued by her.

We drove the short distance to her house in complete silence. When I felt us driving over gravel a few minutes later, I realized that we must be pulling into her driveway. She stopped the car and got out. A moment later, she opened my door and reached for my hand to help me out. This time when she grabbed my hand, there was a tenderness to it, which sparked a buzz deep within me as if she’d shocked me. When she flinched, I knew she felt it too.

“This way,” she instructed as she led me to some steps that went up to a porch.

My vision was improving slightly and I could make out a small shape of what must be a cabin. The porch went the width of the small house and sheltered an ornate porch swing. She unlocked one, two, three locks before letting us inside.

What the hell?

Who the fuck has three locks on their door?

I seriously hoped this chick didn’t tie me to the bed and break my ankles like some psycho from a Stephen King novel. Even though she was weirder than hell, I couldn’t help that she piqued my interest.

“Come on. I’ll show you to the bathroom,” she spoke nervously.

She again guided me until we were in a tiny bathroom. After the faucet turned on, I could hear her rummaging through a cabinet. She handed me a warm washcloth and said, “Try to pat at them some with this while I go look on the Internet for a remedy.”

Once she left me in the bathroom, I tried not to cringe at the burning that was tearing across my face and eyes. A few moments later, a shriek from Lia in the other room caused me to jerk my head towards the door, ready to run to her aide. I heard stomping down the hall, which prompted me to fling open the door only to have her run right smack into me.

For a moment, I was stunned at the way she felt in my arms. She smelled of a sweet perfume that had been made to perfectly complement her own scent, and I couldn’t help but inhale her. With my hands on her back, I had the urge to never let her go, but she let out a ragged breath and pulled away. It was hard to not tug her back to me.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered before regaining her voice. “The Internet says that you need to wash the mace off. Otherwise it could spread and continue to burn.”


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