Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 57878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
The thought stabbed me in the stomach.
The idea of the carnage happening in the world outside was a hard one to take. Families at war, over me, over us. People thinking they were lashing out to rescue me from kidnap or death—if they didn’t believe I was dead and gone already.
Lucian squeezed my hand. “It’s a good job you wrote the fake letter about Elliot Ree coming after you. Otherwise we’d be fucked already. If we’re lucky, then your hand-scrawled lies might buy us a few more hours.”
He was stating the obvious, but it still didn’t ease the punch of the truth any less.
The warfare outside was because of me.
I let out a sigh. “Maybe we can stay holed up here for ever and nobody will ever think to look in Kington Peak. Maybe this can be the Lucian and Elaine paradise, immune from the world.”
“I love your stunning optimism. I wish it had a scrap of a chance of being true.”
The Morelli god got out of bed and slipped on some sweatpants as I watched him. I’d never seen him so casual and it suited him. His body really was a masterpiece, sculpted to perfection. His pants sat down low on his hips, the V of him proud.
There was no protest from him today as I dipped straight into his closet and pulled out one of his shirts. I slipped it on over my head as he watched me right back.
“You really are a beautiful creature,” he said, and it made me glow.
I could have flicked on the TV on our way through to the kitchen. But I couldn’t face the barrage of news screaming about my abduction. I couldn’t face seeing my sisters bawling, begging people to contact the authorities with any news of my disappearance. I didn’t want to see the speculation, and the stories, and the hotlines for reporting information.
Lucian had his phone with him but he wasn’t looking at it. That’s when I got a sense of it again—that simmering tension under his skin, knowing even better than I did just how the world would be coming for us.
We headed right on through to the kitchen for coffee, neither of us acknowledging the calls he was trying his best to ignore.
I shot a glance out of the window, and my mind was right back on the body buried out there under the flower beds.
“What you did to Reverend Lynch, Lucian… I don’t even know how to say thanks for that. Is it even right that I’m happy he’s dead? Does that make me a bad person?”
“It’s perfectly right you’re happy he’s dead,” he told me, deadpan. “If I could have prolonged his suffering any more, I’d still be hurting the vile cunt now.”
I knew I was blushing. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, and he meant it. I could see it in his eyes.
I chose to face up to the obvious. “How long do you think we’ll be able to stay here?” I asked him, and he shrugged.
“Days, tops. Questions will start needing answers. Weapons will start flying. Every scrap of the war will lead them closer to the core.”
Even the thought of it had my stomach twisting.
“What do we do, then? Do we run?”
“You would really do that?” he said. “You would run away from everything you’ve ever known?”
My nod was frantic. “I’d run right now. Together.”
He was quiet, pondering. Staring out through the window as I stared at him.
“Do you think we could do that?” I pushed. “Do you think we could run away?”
“I’m not sure,” he said. “I haven’t a damn clue where we would go. Our families have tentacles in every place we could run to. They’d be after us, chasing us down every single day for the rest of our lives.”
I couldn’t hold back my flood of emotion. “And every single day would be worth it.”
He leaned against the counter. “You might not be saying that when we’re running around the globe like a couple of convicts, living from a suitcase.”
“What’s the alternative?” I asked. “Waiting here until they find out you were the one who took me and hunt us down?”
“The alternative is that you head back into the city,” he said. “You tell them the Power Brothers did this, or some random criminal on the street, or whatever the hell you want to tell them, and go back home. I may get away from this without dying for it, I may not, but you would. You’d be back home safely.”
My reply was instant. Strong and fierce. “This is home.”
The stare between us was intense. My heart thumped, hard. I meant it.
This was home. He was home.
“I’m glad to hear it,” he said. “Just remember that I gave you the option once you have a gun barrel in your face, saying your holy goodbyes.”