Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 44435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 222(@200wpm)___ 178(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 222(@200wpm)___ 178(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
I clenched my hands around my tablet, trying not to panic and overthink. Tango would never hurt me. I knew that with every fiber of my being. He would do everything in the world to protect me. There was no reason for me to panic. No reason at all. I knew that.
But trying to get my brain on board was proving to be mighty difficult.
“Stop fuckin’ pressuring me, Prez,” Tango finally snapped, his voice so loud now, every word was clear when he spoke. “I’m not taking Gabriel to one of the safe houses. He’s safer here. If we get attacked here, he still has men around to keep him safe even if I can’t. If I take him to a fucking safe house, we have no one. We’re on our goddamn own. I can’t risk that—not right now. He needs to be here.”
“Even Johnston thinks it might be a good idea,” Scorpion told him, sounding agitated and tired. “We have houses in the north, Tango. We can get you and him away while we deal with this.”
“No,” Tango snapped, his voice near a bark. “That’s fucking final, Scorpion. Drop it. Don’t come at me again with this shit.”
So, their mini-argument was about my safety? At least my mind could stop whirring around, wondering about what they were talking about, and my gut could stop cramping. But now, my mind was going in another direction.
They were bending over backward to try to keep me alive. Keep me safe. And I wasn’t doing a damn thing to help them except following Tango’s rules. Which I knew helped, but it wasn’t enough. Or, at least, it didn’t feel like enough. There had to be something more that I could do, right? So that if something did happen, Tango didn’t have to worry so much. He didn’t have to focus on keeping me safe so much.
I’d never caught on to shooting, knives, or even hand-to-hand combat when my dad tried to train me. Never caught on when anyone else tried either. I’d been so fucking afraid every time I trained because whenever I made a mistake, I got punished for it. Harshly. In whatever way they deemed fit.
One time, I couldn’t hit my target where my dad wanted me to, so the VP bent me over the table closest to us and raped me, ripping me open and making me bleed.
I could try again though. I could ask Tango to help me. He would, wouldn’t he? Then, at least I might be able to help myself. And I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. Nor would he allow anyone else, too. Tango had proven time and time again that he would do anything in his power to protect me and take care of me.
Only problem was, I didn’t know how to approach the subject with him. Tango was suspicious of a lot, and I didn’t want him to think I wanted to learn so I could leave. I didn’t want to leave. I never wanted to leave. I wanted to be by his side forever, even if I had to eventually watch him fall in love with someone else. I was willing to suffer through that pain if it meant still having him.
My heart clenched. I quickly shoved that thought away. If Tango could tell I was upset, he’d never agree to help me.
I sighed and rolled onto my side. I locked my tablet, no longer in the mood to read, and set it on the nightstand. Curling my arms under the pillow, I closed my eyes. A nap sounded really good, and maybe when I woke up, I’d know how to ask Tango to teach me self-defense.
“You’re too quiet,” Tango murmured later that night. I glanced up at him from my styrofoam container of food. We were downstairs sitting at one of the tables eating dinner that Mark had been kind enough to order for everyone. The poor delivery guy had been overwhelmed by the amount of styrofoam containers he’d been sent to deliver. I’d offered to help carry some in, but Tango had told me to, and I quote, “Sit your cute ass down at that table and do not fucking move, boy.”
Mark had chuckled and winked at me as soon as Tango turned his back, and my face had flamed so red, I was pretty sure it was going to ignite. But despite that, the Chinese food was really good… even if I could hardly stomach it with my belly in so many knots.
I sighed and set down my plastic fork. Tango did as well and leaned back in his chair, crossing his bulky, tattooed arms over his chest. His blue eyes were intense as he stared at me, waiting for me to say whatever was on my mind.
I nervously fidgeted with my fingers. I wasn’t sure how to approach this, but Tango had already noticed I was out of it, so I couldn’t put it off any longer. Honestly, I was surprised he hadn’t said anything sooner. He sure as hell had been eyeing me for a few hours now like he wanted to see inside my head and figure me out.