Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 134830 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134830 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Unconsciously, I take a step toward Kathy and the officer, but Kyle’s hand lands on my stomach, physically holding me back. I didn’t even hear him approach, too laser-locked on my enemy next door. “Don’t let her win,” he growls into my ear.
“I can’t let her get him on her side with all the lies and half-truths,” I hiss, irritated that he’s stopping me.
“She wants you to fuck up, and if you go over there, you are. She’ll win. Don’t let her, Dani. You’re better than that. Better than her.”
I don’t need his help. I sure as fuck don’t need him bringing logic and reason to the table when I’ve got my guns a’blazing, ready to go full war on her.
I’ve dealt with Kathy, the police, and so much more. It’s been hard, but I’ve managed, carrying the weight of her drama all on my own capable shoulders. And I can do it again if I have to.
Hell, I’ve always known I would. A woman like Kathy doesn’t lose and retreat quietly. No, she loses and goes back to her evil lair to plot for another attack. And I handed her one on a silver platter by going onto her property.
My fucking mistake. I got too lax and was too distracted by wanting to do something nice for the guys.
“Daniela.” Kyle gets right in my face, nose to nose, and uses my full name the way he does when we’re being intimate. It’s maybe the only thing that snaps me out of the red-blurred rage I’m falling into. When I meet his eyes, he grits out, “I’ve got you.”
I want to argue, but the officer is walking this way, his eyes jumping left to right, considering me and Kyle, and I’ll admit—if only to myself—that it’s nice to have someone at my side this time.
No, not someone.
Kyle.
He’s doing it again, not saving me, exactly, but supporting me in his quiet, kind way that makes me not want to fight against him. It’s so different from the overbearing, takeover approach other people, like my parents, use. Kyle makes me feel capable while still backing me up, like he knows I can handle it but doesn’t want me to have to do it alone.
“Miss, I understand that you went onto Mrs. Wilson’s property?” The officer’s stopped right in front of us, his feet wide and his hands propped on his belt in a studied attempt to appear intimidating.
“I did, but—”
“Afraid there’s no ‘but’ about it. You’re not allowed to trespass onto other people’s property. Now, Mrs. Wilson is requesting that I ticket you—”
Kyle interrupts this time. “Excuse me, Officer, but I feel I might have some culpability here. I’m the one who ordered lunch from Ms. Becerra today for my crews, and she was delivering the food to me at the time, so if you’re going to issue a ticket to anyone, I’ll take it and handle it myself.”
Every word is correct, polite, and even proper. But Kyle’s tone is dead-flat, which sounds more menacing than if he was growling, and it definitely gets the officer’s attention.
“And you are?” the officer says, his lip curling in distaste as he looks at Kyle.
Admittedly, Kyle looks rough. The sun’s been hot today, and they’ve been hard at work with the concrete, so his boots and jeans are heavily splattered with gray specks and his shirt is wet with sweat from his neck to his abs.
Kyle holds a dirty hand out. “Kyle Harrington.” He puts an odd emphasis on his last name that I don’t understand. I also don’t understand why the officer shakes Kyle’s hand so quickly and his entire mood shifts.
“So, you’re saying she was just bringing you food?” the officer clarifies, talking to Kyle instead of me now and magically, no longer threatening tickets that come with hefty fines I can’t afford, but rather, making the whole thing sound like a minor misunderstanding.
But I’m not letting Kyle take the fall for this, not when it’s something I did and knew better than to do. “Like I was trying to tell you—”
“Yes sir, just bringing me and the guys lunch.” Kyle talks over me, and I nearly jump down his throat because this is exactly what I don’t need… someone taking control and thinking they know better than I do about something that affects me, most of all. “She made the most delicious poblano chili pasta with chicken and a cucumber salad. I’d be happy to spot you one if you haven’t eaten yet?”
I’m going to explode. It’s gonna be ugly and the earth will be scorched in a big, black circle of destruction when I’m done. I can feel the words bubbling up from my gut and coating the back of my tongue, ready to tell this officer to fuck off, Kyle to get the fuck away from me, and Kathy to go fuck herself.