Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 76812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Knowing that didn't keep me from kissing her back, just like it doesn't stop me from picturing her naked body in my head and from shooting cum down the drain.
I'm a fucking deviant. She's here to be protected. I'm tasked with keeping her safe and giving her the things she needs. I'm not supposed to feed that fucked-up part of her that Nathan abused her into believing.
Shame coats my skin despite washing myself three times before finally climbing out of the shower and drying off.
Instead of being back inside the closet, Brielle is sitting in the armchair on the far wall.
She gives me a small smile when I open the bathroom door, and I hate knowing that it's fake. She has no reason to smile at me.
"About last night—" I begin, but I snap my mouth closed.
"Thank you for all the help you've given me," she says, and it's exactly what I told her was enough.
She doesn't want my apology, or maybe she doesn't expect one. Her words should've been to tell me to shut the fuck up because it has the same result.
"I just need about five minutes," she says, already dressed for the day.
I'm the type that likes to shower in the morning to wake up, and I've learned that Brielle likes to go to bed shortly after her shower.
If we were a couple, and I shouldn't even be thinking shit like that, we'd be the perfect pair.
I grab socks from the dresser and mumble cuss words to myself as I pull them on and get my boots on my feet.
Maybe we've been spending too much time together. I can honestly say that this last week plus a few days has been the longest I've spent with any woman.
"Have you given much thought to picking up where you left off on your schoolwork?" I ask the second she opens the bathroom door.
I want her to know that I've moved past what happened last night.
She shrugs. "I don't really see the point in it."
I know better than to push her. She was hurt and manipulated by two men who were supposed to love and protect her. If I know anything about human nature, it's that she's more likely to fight against anyone trying to control any part of her life right now.
"If you change your mind, Em has your computer at her house. We could easily set it up in here or in one of the other rooms."
She pulls in a deep breath, and I can tell she's both a little annoyed that I'm still talking and grateful that I'm not going to argue with her about it.
There are a million questions in my head as I lead the way out of the room, but she won't make any kind of progress if I start grilling her about Ohio, and how it makes her feel hearing that Nathan will soon be sent back there to face his crimes.
I could tell last night by the way she reacted to the news that she didn't think it’s the best idea, but Kincaid is right. He can't stop the police or the courts from doing anything.
"Can I wait in the living room?" she asks before we make it to the end of the hallway. "I mean, I don't expect you to keep catering to me, but it sounds like there are a lot of people in there."
"It's fine," I assure her. "Do you want to go back to the room until I make our plates?"
Brielle looks past me to see Gigi sitting on the couch, braiding one of her little girls' hair as the toddler watches cartoons.
"It's fine," she says, but I see the way she sucks in a deep, fortifying breath before walking in that direction.
I watch her sit down, wondering how she feels when Gigi begins talking to her, but she doesn't look back in my direction as if she needs to be rescued. I assume Gigi will keep the topic of conversation light, considering her daughter is there.
The kitchen is full of people, but it's not unusual. Most folks around here get up early and if they don't have anything going on, they tend to stick around and just sort of hang out.
Hemlock, of course, is in the corner by himself, but at least he doesn't fully isolate himself the way Brielle has.
"Kincaid wants to speak to you," Shadow says as he fills my coffee cup after pouring his own. "He's in the garage."
"Okay," I tell the club's vice president, beginning to set my cup down.
"After breakfast, Newton," Shadow says. "After that, I'll need your help with a trip into town."
I nod. It's the first time anything has been directly requested of me since I hurt my wrist.
I was told I could leave the sling off at my last doctor's appointment a few days ago, but I still haven't been given full clearance to return to work.