Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 149137 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 746(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149137 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 746(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
He was preaching to the choir. Josh was getting antsy, ready for another fight. Or another session with the woman he shouldn’t ever touch again. “Yeah, I fucking get that. Believe me I know that nowhere is safe.”
“Then you should know that none of what went down in the last couple of days was your fault, man, and go easier on yourself.” Taggart stood up and stuffed his phone in the laptop bag he’d brought with him. “And it’s cool that you can’t forgive Kayla. I get that now. It’s hard to forgive anyone when you can’t ever forgive yourself.”
“Myself? What the fuck do I have to forgive myself for?”
Taggart nodded as he started for the door. “That’s a damn good question, kid. Answer that one and maybe the rest of your life can fall in line.” He paused at the door. “She won’t stop after the op. She’ll keep going until you’re safe. She’ll handle all of it so you’ll be safer here than you were in the first place. I think some lucky blackmailer is going to be getting a visit from our Kayla soon. I hope she videotapes that. Fun times. Good to meet you.”
She was going to what? He found himself staring at the spot where Taggart had sat. It was obvious the man lived to fuck with people. Kayla wouldn’t go after his blackmailer alone. That would be ridiculous. She’d said that in order to get closer to him, but after the op was over, she would be done with him. He’d made himself plain.
Only a woman who really loved a man would still want to put herself at risk.
He didn’t understand her, didn’t understand any of this.
He sat and thought about everything they’d said, but that guy was wrong about him. He didn’t have anything to forgive.
And he would never forget.
Still, when the time came to leave, he kept the letter he’d written to the club members in his pocket along with his keys. Maybe he should think about that.
Maybe.
* * * *
Kayla looked up as Big Tag walked out. She’d tried going back in to protect Josh from him, but Adam and Alex had blatantly waylaid her with a bunch of bullshit questions about the op.
“What did you do to him?” With Big Tag it could be anything from a simple but obnoxious talking to right up to brutal murder she would likely be left to clean up after.
Taggart gave her a smooth smile that was probably meant to put her at ease, but the man always reminded her of a satisfied predator when his lips curved up like that. Like he’d eaten someone he shouldn’t and his belly was happily full. “Not a thing. Just wanted to make sure we were all on the same page. We are. So I can get back to my regularly scheduled programming of riding around in a billionaire’s jet, drinking his Scotch, and changing all his playlists to classic rock. Can you believe Drew Lawless has a playlist titled Team TayTay for Taylor Swift’s greatest hits? I’m taking his man card and ripping it up right in front of his wife’s face. Hair metal. It’s the only manly thing to listen to.”
Somehow she doubted that was really Lawless’s playlist. She looked up at the man who’d hired her when she’d needed a job. He could joke all he liked, but she was the reason his whole week had been upended. He’d been far closer and that was why he’d come out to California in Damon’s stead. She was the reason he’d had to hustle to ensure his business didn’t get ripped apart by lawsuits and potential criminal inquiries. “I’m sorry, Ian.”
He frowned and shoved sunglasses over his eyes. “Come on. We should talk before I go. Adam, Alex seems to have fallen asleep on that spanking bench over there. You know what to do.”
Adam grinned and held up his phone. “I’m documenting this for humanity and so I can photoshop in some crazy shit later. I’m going to miss this when I’m the boss.”
Big Tag walked to the outer portion of the club. Sun streamed in from the overhead skylight but they were still out of the way of prying eyes. Riley had gone to pull the car around and they would be behind tinted windows in seconds, their identities protected from reporters and the Agency alike. “The idea of Adam being in charge scares me. He’ll spend all his profits on fancy shoes. At least he’s got a good team around him. Too bad it’s my damn team. I hate hiring people. You know, your boy is a hardass.”
“He’s been hurt. A lot.” She couldn’t even imagine what Josh had gone through.
“That kind of hurt doesn’t go away on its own. Oh, you can try to self-medicate with Scotch and good music, but in the end you have to reopen that wound and let the toxins out or they’ll kill you.”