Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Placing the flask to my mouth, I took another long drink from it. If I’d known she had a kid with her, I wanted to believe I would have chosen another angle. Done it differently. But truth was, I couldn’t say I would have. I needed her to fucking need me. Locking her to me, making sure she saw no other way but to trust me. A hard, disgusted laugh came from my chest. I’d manipulated the fuck out of her to get her here.
This might not have been what Wilder had suggested, but he had given me the idea. The crazed feeling in my chest had only gotten more out of hand as I watched her trying to run from me. The idea of her being somewhere I couldn’t get to her, see her, touch her, fucking smell her made me feel completely off-balance. Hell, it made me feel feral.
Which was why she was here. In Maeme’s house for now. Until I figured out what the hell I was going to do with the fact that she had a teenager with her. One that would be considered a runaway. I had to fix that too. The idea of going to find Netta Ball and helping her have an accidental overdose or perhaps die from a carbon monoxide leak had some merit. Killing her off would make it easier on Briar.
“Fuck,” I muttered. Who was I right now? I was trying to kill off a woman so that Briar had one less worry in her life. What next?
I picked up the paperwork Wilder had given me. This was Dovie’s new identity. She could start a new life, but she would have to cut her hair and color it. Wear contacts that changed her natural color. That wasn’t the kind of life Briar really wanted for her. It would eat away at her. I didn’t like the idea of Briar having any more weight on her shoulders.
I couldn’t stomach it. Knowing Briar would be worried about something. I wanted to fix every one of her worries. What kind of fucked-up shit was that? I was obsessed with a woman who ran through men like they were dispensable. Sure, I had the money to get her attention, but I didn’t want her attention. I wanted her soul. I wanted her clinging to me. Wanting me. Needing me. However, right now, I’d take the money power if I had to in order to get her in my bed. Or just on my cock. All the time.
I tossed back more of the moonshine in my flask. It burned all the way down, but it didn’t numb the monster that had come out to play inside me. He was still there, stalking around, growling like a caveman. Demanding I go find Briar and fuck her until I owned her.
“You need a refill?” Thatcher asked.
I hadn’t heard him approach. My head had been too locked in on thoughts of Briar. I looked over at him, and he held up the bottle of moonshine that had been sitting on the bar in the lounge room when I went over there to get a drink before coming to watch Briar like a lunatic.
“Yeah,” I said, handing him the almost-empty flask. “This shit is strong. Where’d you get it?”
“I know a man who makes it up near Knoxville,” he replied. “Had to go make a purchase on a thoroughbred for Dad two days ago and made a stop to get a case.”
My gaze swung back to the window that’s light was still on. Briar had to be exhausted. Why wasn’t she sleeping yet? Was she worried? Planning on leaving me?
“You sitting outside all night like a seasoned stalker?” he asked, handing me back my flask.
“Maybe,” I replied, then took another drink.
“Because she’s gonna run or because you’re obsessed with our little songbird?”
“Mine,” I bit out as rage simmered in my chest at him using the word ours.
She wasn’t ours. She would never be ours. Just mine.
He let out a low whistle through his teeth. “That doesn’t sound unstable at all.”
He had no idea. This paled in comparison to what I’d done to get her here. Not that I was going to admit that shit. Even to Thatcher, who I felt like would appreciate the effort. He was twisted enough to not see it like the others would.
“Like you’re one to judge someone’s sanity,” I shot back at him.
“I’m not the one sitting outside, alone, drinking while staring at a window either.”
Fair point.
“Is it the fucking? Is she just that good?”
My hand fisted as I seethed at hearing him talk about fucking and Briar. “Don’t,” I warned him.
A sadistic laugh came from him, and he took a drink from the bottle in his hand. “This is gonna be so damn fun to watch.”