Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 76396 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76396 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
I nod, and then take a deep breath and walk out of the room and towards the front door. With each step that takes me closer, my heart begins to race just a little more. I don’t know what I’m going to say, or do, or if I’m even willing to share any parts of my story with Slater, hell, I don’t even know if I’ll have the courage to open my mouth and speak.
But I’ll try.
Even though Slater’s very presence terrifies me.
The way he looks at me is so intense it makes my skin all prickly.
But he’ll help me.
And right now, I don’t have many other options.
I hesitate when I reach the front door. I can smell smoke wafting through, and I know he’s sitting right there, smoking, waiting for me. That big, terrifying man, that looks at me like I’m the very reason for his existence.
“You can come out, Ellie,” he murmurs, so low I almost miss it. “Can hear you breathin’.”
God.
He can?
My hand hesitates on the door knob.
“You know,” he continues, voice low and gruff. “First time you snuck into my room when you were havin’ a sleep over with Damon and his friends, you hesitated. Just like this. I was awake, but I could hear you stop at my door, and I knew your hand was on the handle, just like it is right now. Know what you said to me, when I told you that I knew you were there?”
I swallow, but my voice comes out before I can even think, because curiosity burns. Like he knows more about me than I know about myself. And I want to know. I almost need to know. “What?” I whisper through the screen door.
“You said to me,” he goes on, “You know I shouldn’t be here, Slater Knight.”
My lips twitch, just a little.
“Know what I thought, Ellie?”
“No,” I whisper.
“I thought fuck, you’re right, you shouldn’t be there. Because you were younger than me, and you were so damned beautiful I found it hard to stay away, and there you were, at my fuckin’ door, knowin’ I couldn’t stay away. You knew what I wanted. You always knew what I wanted.”
My heart races, and I twist the door handle, pushing the door open and stepping outside. I look to my left where Slater is sitting on the front porch swing, cigarette in hand, watching me. He’s so big. So terrifyingly big, and yet I’m not really afraid of him. I’m afraid of what he knows. I’m afraid of trusting him.
But I’m not afraid of him.
His eyes travel over me, slowly, and pause on my wrists. I quickly cover one with my hand, rubbing at the purplish scars there. I didn’t do them on purpose, but I did get desperate a few times, and twisted so hard the binds tore my skin open. I bled so much once, I nearly died. He stopped binding my wrists after that, and instead used other methods to make sure I did as I was told.
“What happened to you?” his voice is rough, and broken, and god damn it almost aches as it comes out.
“I don’t really...” I say softly. I’m going to say, I don’t really want to talk about it, but if I want their help, I have to talk about it. “I don’t really know where to start.”
“Start by tellin’ me who the fuck had you, and why he’s still huntin’ you down.”
I hesitate, not really sure where I should sit, or what I should do. Slater studies me, and then moves over, creating a space right next to him. I don’t know if I should sit there, hell, I’m not even sure I want to. He’s so overpowering, and I’m overwhelmed simply being in his presence, let alone sitting beside him.
“I’ll...I’m okay. Thanks.”
“I won’t hurt you, Ellie,” he says, his voice rough, just like him. “With time, you’ll see that.”
I think I already see it.
I don’t feel threatened by him, and I’ve spent a long time learning to trust my gut.
“I know that,” I say softly.
He looks up at me, almost startled by that.
Like he expected me to say I didn’t trust him.
“You went to my brother, want to tell me exactly why?”
I rub my arms, looking anywhere but at him, because when I look into his eyes, I feel something deep inside. Something that doesn’t make sense to me. Something confusing. Something...beautiful.
“Erin said a man came into her bakery with the missing picture of me, asking if she’d seen me. She told him no, but it made her uneasy. When she described him, it wasn’t anyone from the club, or your family. She said the man gave her a really bad feeling. The moment she told me, I knew it was him looking for me.”
“Who is he?”
His voice comes out like a hiss, a deadly tone that tells me the very subject makes something inside of him come alive with anger.