My Anti Hero Read Online Tijan

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Insta-Love, Sports, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 155798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 779(@200wpm)___ 623(@250wpm)___ 519(@300wpm)
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My chest squeezed. God, I hoped so.

“What are you thinking?”

My cheeks warmed, and I bit down on my lip. “Nothing.”

He grunted, his eyes darkening, falling to my lips. “You’re lying.”

My grin turned into a smirk, but a teasing one. “Maybe.”

He laughed, reaching for the window washer and going over to do the windshield. I tracked his every move, hunger lighting inside me. His T-shirt was a little too small for him, and I was not complaining. No way. It showcased his stomach muscles, his bulging biceps, the thick, black band that went around his bicep. His beard was a little fuller. He’d told me once that he usually trimmed it before every game until playoffs. After that, he let it grow as long as they lasted, only shaving it after their last final game.

I liked the beard and loved how it felt, but a part of me wondered what he looked like with it gone. I kinda hoped he’d never fully shave it off.

The gas pump clicked off while Brett was still doing the other side of the window, so I returned the nozzle and closed the gas tank, following the directions and twisting so it clicked once. I was closing the outside shield when someone asked from my side, “Excuse me, ma’am. Do you have the time?”

The voice was polite but a little muffled.

I reached for my phone, pulling it out right before a dark shadow fell across me. A hand grasped my hand, and I froze, my eyes lifting.

He had a mask on. It was translucent, but it blurred what he looked like. Eerily.

His eyes were clear. They were so cold.

An emotion flashed there in that split second as we stared at each other. Then, we both burst into action. I opened my mouth to scream for Brett, and at the same time, he twisted my hand down and around, bringing my back against his chest.

He clamped a hand over my mouth, muffling my scream.

The smell was horrible, whatever was under his gloves.

I gasped, letting my phone go and grasping for his wrist, trying to get free.

But I couldn’t. Black dots started to dance at the edges of my eyesight. I was going to fall unconscious. No. God, no.

Brett…

He had me against his chest, pulling me backwards. My body started to shut down. I couldn’t hold onto him any longer and my hands fell. My feet stopped moving.

My body was going limp.

“HEY!”

He stopped, a curse came from him, and then I was free, but falling to the ground.

There was a thud.

Another.

They were fighting.

“Call 911!” Brett yelled, his voice savage. I’d never heard that tone from him. It was animalistic. I struggled to wake up, to see better, to help if I could. Brett needed me.

I tried sitting up, but everything swam around me.

My hand scraped against something and a dull pain pierced me. I fell all over again.

I tried calling for Brett, or for help…anything.

I needed to wake up!

You’re safe, baby. I heard a soothing woman’s voice inside my head.

“Mom?”

Someone came up to me, a dominant presence. Male. Definitely male. Strong arms swept me up, and I curled against a chest. Brett.

Something inside me uncoiled, and I gave in, surrendering.

You can sleep, baby. You’re safe. You’ve always been safe.

That was my mom. I wanted to talk to her, to hear how she was, but also, why. After so many years, why?

Darkness took over.

A hand smoothed over my hair, a low voice crooning to me.

I knew that voice, knew that smell of lilac and lavender. It was the lotion she used.

Mom!

I opened my eyes. She was sitting beside me on the bed. So beautiful.

Smooth skin. Her eyes so clear and blue. A loving smile on her face. She looked healthy. Glowing. Her skin wasn’t dry anymore—the reason she used that lotion so much. There were no stress lines under her eyes, around her mouth. No bags either.

She had laugh lines instead, like all she did was laugh, all she did was smile now. Even heaven couldn’t keep the happy lines from forming.

“You’re safe, Billie. He didn’t get you.”

I reached for her hand, but I couldn’t touch her. She could only touch me.

I closed my eyes as she ran her fingers through my hair again before drawing away.

“Mom.”

Her eyes were filled to the brim with love. “I’m so proud of you. You’ve endured so much, but you don’t have to keep it to yourself anymore.”

I frowned, not wanting to go there, not wanting to have this emotion with her. Not now. She’d been gone for so long. “Mom—”

“You need to wake up,” she told me.

Muffled conversation rumbled from somewhere. Dark, angry, worried. Not angry—furious. That was Brett.

“I like him, but he’s worried about you so you need to wake up. You can tell him, honey.”

Mom started to leave.

I reached for her hand, my fingers sliding through hers. “Mom!”


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