Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 116636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
“I need you to come get me,” she whispered. “I’m so scared, Loni. They hurt me. Last night they …”
She paused, and my mind raced, filling in the blanks.
“That’s enough,” the man said, his voice muffled in the background. The call stopped and I nearly drove into the ditch because I couldn’t stop the tears filling my eyes. Couldn’t see for shit.
I took a long detour heading home, wondering how I’d explain that to Puck, and then deciding I didn’t care what he thought. I’d just tell him I got distracted and didn’t notice I’d gone down the wrong road, or something like that.
He didn’t ask, though.
When we pulled up to Reese’s place, he just parked his bike and got off, following me into the house. Reese sat at the dining room table, flipping through a motorcycle magazine and drinking a beer.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he said, looking up at me. “Come here, sit on my lap for a while.”
“You need me for anything else tonight?” Puck asked, his voice bored but his gaze focused, taking in everything. That’s what unnerved me about him the most—the fact that if I made even the slightest mistake, he’d catch it.
“You’re free for the night,” Reese said as I came to a stop next to him. He caught me by the waist, lifting me easily to straddle him across the chair. His hands lifted and framed my face, those brilliant blue eyes of his seeming to stare right into my soul.
What did he see there?
“You can talk to me,” Reese said, and my heart stuttered. He knew. He had to know. Why else would he say that? “Whatever it is, if some-thing’s wrong talk to me, babe. It’s the only way I can help you.”
I felt like my face was cracking, but I managed to smile at him.
“What brings this on?”
“One of the girls down at The Line,” he said. “She got herself in some trouble a couple days ago, and instead of talking to us, she decided to sell us out.”
I closed my eyes, trying to force my pulse to slow down. Could he feel it racing under his fingers?
“What’ll happen to her?”
His eyes darkened, and he didn’t answer. I felt his hand slide around and into my hair, fingers combing through it lightly, and then he caught it up, twisting it around his wrist until it just almost hurt. He tugged my head back, exposing my throat. Then he wrapped his other hand around my neck lightly, caressing me.
“You don’t want to know,” he whispered. His hand tightened in my hair painfully and he tilted my head, taking my mouth in a hard kiss. It shouldn’t have turned me on. I was scared of him, scared of the men in San Diego.
Scared of everything.
But his dick was hardening between my legs and I wanted him so bad it hurt. When he let my mouth go and cupped my butt in his hands—lifting me and carrying me back into the bedroom—it never occurred to me to protest.
I wanted him way too much.
All of him.
His smell, his strength, the way he’d thrown himself over me when my house blew up. The love in his eyes when he saw his daughter, and the fact that I’d found two stunning diamond pendants in blue Tiffany boxes next to the letter his wife had written him, right in the top drawer of his dresser.
None of that would ever be mine … But for tonight, I’d take what I could get and pretend my world hadn’t ended.
“What did you find for me today?”
That voice. It haunted my dreams. I think it would’ve been easier if he yelled at me, or even if I sensed that he enjoyed hurting Jessica. But we could’ve been talking about the weather or what I’d eaten for lunch. The guy was like an exterminator, and I could tell he’d shoot Jessica and then go home and put up his feet, maybe watch a TV show.
We weren’t even human to him.
I drove on slowly, Puck following me on his bike, wondering if I should just turn out along the highway and head for the high bridge. Then I’d drive off the side. End of story. Suddenly I heard the bloop of a police siren, then caught the flash of blue lights in my rearview mirror. At first I couldn’t tell if they were after me or Puck.
Then he pulled over and the cop stopped behind him. Thank God for that—no way I could deal with the police and this phone call at the same time. Puck might’ve just saved Jessica’s life by distracting the cop for me, I realized. Was her existence really hanging by a thread that thin? Yes, it probably was. Sweat broke out on my forehead.
“London? I’m waiting.”
Catching the phone between my head and shoulders, I reached up to swipe at the moisture with the back of my hand.