Total pages in book: 170
Estimated words: 160166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 801(@200wpm)___ 641(@250wpm)___ 534(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 801(@200wpm)___ 641(@250wpm)___ 534(@300wpm)
“Yeah, she does,” I answer him and shove down whatever the fuck it is that’s come over me.
“No rush,” he says and shrugs. “We should do dinner this week, though, I think? She could meet Bethany and Aria … or is it too soon for that?” he questions.
I don’t have any answer for him. All I can offer is, “Maybe, I’ll let you know.”
His expression drops slightly, but he nods and clears his throat. “There are a couple of other boxes in the kitchen too,” he tells me although his brow is pinched and his gaze shifts from me to the bathroom where the water has stopped running.
Her bath must be full.
“Thanks for bringing these down,” I start and prepare to shut the door, but his hand comes out, stopping it abruptly.
“How are you doing?” Jase asks me.
“I could be better.” The honest answer comes from me without my conscious consent.
“I can tell,” he answers and then asks, “You need anything?”
With an anxiousness in the pit of my stomach, I lie and tell him, “No, I’m good.” With that, he tells me all right and that he’ll leave me alone. Shutting the door, regret and even fear both linger.
Adrenaline flows through my veins, pumping my heart harder as I head numbly toward the bathroom. I’m not prepared for the gruesome image that flashes to mind. A bath filled with blood, the deep red line a stark contrast against the pristine white porcelain. Her throat slit just like the man who dared insult Jase’s wife. Her black hair floating like a halo along her tan skin and her eyes closed.
“I feel so much better,” she murmurs as she shifts in the milky bathwater. In a single blink the vision is gone, my beautiful Braelynn very much alive although sleepy. Steam rises gently from the heated surface of the water.
“Are you coming in?” she asks as I question my sanity and what the fuck has come over me.
BRAELYNN
Every doubt that whispered in the back of my mind that Declan doesn’t want me anymore has silenced in the last twenty-four hours. He’s kissed every inch of my body and last night he held me in the bath as if he were afraid I would leave him.
There’s not a piece of me that wants to ever be without him. As fucked up and wrong as it sounds, I desperately love him.
I can’t forget what happened, though, and that fear still screams and grips me every single night until Declan gives me medicine to sleep. He tells me those who lied to him are dead and that it will never happen again. He tells me it’s done and over with, and not to think of it or ever bring it up. He tells me to forget it.
I don’t know how I will ever forget, though.
Those men and that tub will forever be etched into my memory. Even walking into the foyer, knowing one of the sets of double doors leads to that room gives me chills.
As I play with the hem of the cashmere sweater Declan gave me, I pretend none of those doors exist. I don’t know for certain which ones lead to his brothers’ halls and which is the hall of nightmares, but I ignore them all and that’s simply how I’ll survive and obey Declan, trying to forget it all.
I make it through the day by staying in a bubble and pretending it’s all right. I give him my worries and they’re simply gone.
The slippers are so very quiet as I make my way this early morning to the kitchen. Even though I’m finally dressed appropriately, in a cream sweater and black leggings that are the most expensive pieces I’m sure I’ll ever own, I still don’t want to see anyone else.
Not his brothers or anyone who works for him.
I swallow thickly at the thought as I round the corner and hear voices. Shit. My fingers go numb as dread spreads through me. They were kind last time and they may have had nothing to do with what happened; I can’t help it, though. Nate knew and worked for Declan. His brothers didn’t ask questions about how I got like that in the kitchen. No questions that would make it seem that they didn’t know what was going to happen.
Glancing over my shoulder, I contemplate turning back. Heading back empty-handed to the bedroom where Declan is sleeping and waiting for him to wake up. No surprise coffee to greet him with. I can’t spoil him like he does me. And spoil me he undoubtedly has.
With his touch and affection, with drawers of new clothes and anything I ask for. He’s also kept me to himself, locked in his bedroom. I haven’t even ventured into the rooms of his hall nor asked about them. I haven’t asked him anything.