Total pages in book: 192
Estimated words: 182641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 913(@200wpm)___ 731(@250wpm)___ 609(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 182641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 913(@200wpm)___ 731(@250wpm)___ 609(@300wpm)
“The watch …” I remember.
“No reason for it to go to waste.”
Slowly, I push to my feet, jerking my head toward the casket.
Bastian’s eyes narrow slightly, but then he gives a slow nod. “He’s lucky the blood infection took him while we were gone. It would have been worse once I got back.” He pauses, contemplating, before deciding to add, “If your dad didn’t beat me to it.”
My brows jump. “My dad,” I said deadpan.
Another nod and when he looks to the first set of chains, the ones with nothing but teardrop-sized red stains littering the ground below them, I know.
“It was you … you attacked us that night. You took my dad.”
Unapologetically, his crystal eyes hold mine. “I did.”
“I …” My mind spins and I shake my head. “How?”
“Help. A warning from a … man of mutual interest.”
I don’t even know what to say to that. I don’t know what to think or ask or feel.
My dad is fine, clearly. He didn’t hurt or kill him. The blood on the floor isn’t his. I know this. I’ve set eyes on him myself, so … “Why?”
Slowly, he pushes off the wall, and I stand, spinning to face him as he grows nearer. When He reaches me, he holds his hand out, and I set the golden pin in his palm. He brings it closer for inspection, blows a warm breath over it and then rubs it against the material of my pajama top, twisting and turning it until the solid gold catches the light and shines in greatness.
“I cleaned this up once already. Saved it for you, but not for reasons you might think.” His eyes lift to mine. “I saved it to serve as a reminder of what will happen to anyone who hurts you. This is now my promise pin. He touched you. Hurt you.”
“I could have drowned him easily.”
Bastian’s smirk pulls at his lips and he pushes my hair from my face. “I know, baby. I was inspired that day.” A shadow flicks across his gaze, a small frown pulling instantly, and it all comes together.
“The guy who took Brielle …” I put it together. “You were there that day at Greyson Elite? You saw when I talked Oliver into the water?” He was inspired, he said, so that means he used the water against this guy.
He nods. “Hog-tied him to the disabled chair in that same pool. Left him to drown in it. Should have chained some bricks to his ass.”
“Bastian.”
He blinks as I speak, refocusing. “Why did you take my dad that night?”
“Because you’re mine, and he wasn’t going to understand that if I didn’t. I’d waited and planned for months, finishing out my responsibilities in Brayshaw with you at the front of my mind the entire time. I wanted to make you sweat, to ache and regret and miss me, and you did, Rich Girl. You did exactly what I wanted while I was getting ready for you.” He walks into me, backing me up and twisting me until my shoulder blades meet the cool stone wall. His knuckles come up under my chin, and he lifts it, his tongue flicking along his lip ring as he fixates on my lips.
“I was a boy who had no idea what he wanted but knew it wasn’t what I had until I found you. Everything clicked. I didn’t know how I was going to be what you deserved, but I knew I would be. The only thing I wasn’t sure I’d be able to give you is what you needed most, and that’s love, but I learned how to give that. It might be unconventional, it might not even be right, but it’s real, my love for you.” My lungs expand with a sharp inhale, and his eyes flick to mine, darkening. “I don’t need your old man’s acceptance. You are mine regardless … but I want it. For you, because I know you want it. You love him.”
“I love you.”
Bastian’s eyes flash, his chest rising and falling in rapid succession, but there’s no shock in his gaze. No surprise or relief.
He knew. He knows.
My forehead falls forward, and he meets it with his own, our eyes closing.
“Fuck the world …”
I can sense his smirk without seeing it as he whispers in return, “and everyone in it.”
I should probably be concerned at how easy it is to walk out of Bastian’s basement and leave Oliver’s cold, dead body behind, but there’s no time to focus on that. Not when it’s eight-fifty-eight on the dot and we’re walking through the gardens that lead to the new giant gate connecting Bastian’s estate to the Greyson one.
As we reach the brand-new monstrosity, Bastian gives me a small nod, so I step forward, pressing my palm to the square reader, a replica of the one we use at The Enterprise, and what do you know, access is granted.