Slay (Georgia Smoke #1) Read Online Abbi Glines

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: Georgia Smoke Series by Abbi Glines
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Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
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Sebastian went ahead of me and opened the door to the kitchen, where he went to the fridge and grabbed a beer before going to get the back door for us. I heard him crack open the can and shook my head, unable not to smile. The little shithead was entertaining. Nothing like Thatcher. Two brothers couldn’t be any more different.

The back of the Escalade opened, and I threw the bastard inside before closing it. With one last glance, I felt relief that he would never touch Rumor again. She was safe. I’d made fucking sure of it.

• fifteen •

“Not sure what went wrong in his DNA.”

Rumor

I was going to take more books this time. The four I had taken Sunday only lasted for three days. I had woken up early and walked the one mile from the cottage to Maeme’s. She was thrilled to see me and even insisted I have a cup of coffee with her and try one of her blueberry muffins. It was nice to feel normal. I had felt guilty about turning down her invitation to come to dinner Tuesday night. She had called me and said she’d come get me, but I had lied and said I had a headache.

Now back in the library, I wanted to inhale the smell of books, run my fingers over the bindings, and stay lost in here forever. No fear of the future or what was to come. My ribs were feeling much better, and Maeme had said the doctor was coming tomorrow to take a look at them. My lip were healing, and the bruising on my face was almost gone. All that being said, I knew my time was running out here. Soaking in every moment I had left was important. I might never have this again. A safe place to be. I didn’t want to miss a moment of it.

I reached for a book on the third shelf near the left side of the door that I had noticed Sunday just as the door opened. Expecting to see Maeme, I froze when an unfamiliar face entered the room. I wasn’t sure if I should scream or remain calm. Just because I had never seen him didn’t mean he didn’t belong here. There were a lot of people in this family of Maeme’s, and I didn’t quite understand all their connections, but the man was attractive. Somewhat familiar, but I wasn’t sure why. I’d definitely recognize that face if I had seen it before.

The small grin that touched his lips seemed amused yet friendly. I wasn’t the best at judging one’s character though.

“You must be Rumor,” he said, causing me to exhale in relief. He knew my name. He wasn’t some stranger off the street or law enforcement, looking for Carmella Millroe. “I’m Sebastian Shephard. You’ve met my brother, Thatcher.”

I tensed up again. Thatcher wasn’t someone I wanted to be alone with, and that went for anyone closely related to him. When I took a step back, Sebastian appeared confused, and then he chuckled.

“I should have clarified that I am the sane younger brother. I’m nothing like Thatch. Not sure what went wrong in his DNA.”

The way his grin crinkled the corners of his brown eyes, which were free of the troubled darkness in Thatcher’s, led me to believe he was telling the truth.

“It’s, uh, nice to meet you,” I replied.

He glanced around the room and sighed contentedly. “This is my favorite place.”

I didn’t say anything, but I studied him. He seemed to be inhaling the smell of books much the way I had. Interesting.

When his eyes locked back on me, he gave me a sheepish look. “Mind if I stay? I’m here for a few more days, and I like to have something to read when I need to get away from it all.”

I shook my head. “No. Not at all. Please, I will just get my books and leave you in peace.”

He walked over to me, his eyes on the books in my hand. “Do you like horses, Rumor?” he asked, lifting his gaze back up to meet mine.

I shrugged. “I like to look at them. I’ve never been close to one or ridden one.”

He narrowed his eyes, yet his smile stayed in place. “Hold on,” he said, then walked across the room and scanned a row of books before pulling one out. When he turned back to me, he held it up. “Read this. I think you’ll enjoy it.” He told me, then placed the book on top of my others.

I looked down at the book he’d given me. “The Ride of Her Life by Elizabeth Letts,” I read aloud, then saw that it was a true story. A memoir. I smiled before asking, “And you’ve read this?” It seemed very unlikely.

He blushed and lifted his shoulders in a small shrug. “Yeah. But if you tell anyone, I’ll deny it.”


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