Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 88279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
The trip to the Underworld is no less strange this time around, albeit in a different way. Beast leads us past the beautiful front desk guy, with Gaeton half a step behind me. Through the towering door and into the carefully dim lounge. I start to look around, but Gaeton’s quiet “eyes forward, Isabelle” jerks my gaze to the center of Beast’s back. I promised I’d follow their lead, and this is the barest of an order. It’d be foolish to disobey over something so mundane.
We end up in a booth in the middle of the section, with me between the two men. Beast and Gaeton exchange a look, and Beast slips away before Gaeton has a chance to say anything. The big man glares, but remains at my side. I smooth my hands down the slick fabric of my dress. “Have I done something to piss you off in the last twelve hours?”
“What?” He finally looks at me, really looks at me. “Why would you say that?”
I lift my brows. “Really, Gaeton? Can you think of anything you’ve done that might lead me to this conclusion?”
He flushes a little and leans back, some of the tension bleeding out of his body. “I suppose since we demand honesty from you, offering anything less in return is a shitty thing to do.”
“I suppose so.” I find myself holding my breath. If we were good at communicating before, maybe we wouldn’t have left a trail of trauma behind us to get to this place. If we have any hope at a future, we have to be able to talk. “Can you just tell me this—is there any chance of you forgiving me?”
Shock widens his eyes a little. “I’ve already forgiven you.”
“No, you haven’t.” I shake my head. “It’s okay that you haven’t. I hurt you terribly. But what I need to know is if there’s a possibility I can earn your forgiveness.”
He inhales like he’s going to argue with me, but further tension bleeds from his body with his exhale. “I don’t know. I …”
I fight for a tentative smile even though his answer feels like a punch in the solar plexus. “Thank you for being honest.”
Gaeton reaches to smooth my hair back from my face, his hand moving as if he can’t help himself. “I never stopped loving you. I don’t think either of us did. It’s just all tangled up in the other shit.”
“There’s a lot of other shit.” That’s the crux of the matter. Maybe if we’d all been this honest the first time around, we’d have a chance. Two weeks is not enough time to fight for both the future and to be free of the sins of the past. Choosing one of them might very well be a moot point, just prolonging the inevitable crash and burn. “I don’t know if we can find a way through.”
His gaze trails to where Beast is leaning against the bar, wearing his customary dark jeans and plain T-shirt. “Beast has a plan. I just can’t decide if it’s a good one or downright disastrous.”
I cautiously lean my head against his broad shoulder and nearly whimper with relief when he wraps his arm around me and tucks me against his side. “I missed you,” I whisper.
He tenses, but it’s almost like he can’t hold it. Gaeton pulls me closer and brushes a kiss to my temple. “I missed you, too.”
I half expect Beast to be irritated that we’re cuddling while he’s retrieving drinks, but he looks inordinately pleased as he walks back to the booth to find me nearly in Gaeton’s lap. He carefully sets the drinks on the table in front of us. Whiskey for him and Gaeton. A gin and tonic for me. He slides into the booth on my other side and then I’m sandwiched between them. Beast starts to speak, but a new group of people walk into the lounge and he leans back, words unsaid.
I see why when the pair of men peel off, leaving two women striding toward the bar. One is white and slight, with short white-blond hair. She’s wearing pleated gray trousers that stop at her ankles and show off red-bottomed heels. Suspenders cling to her narrow shoulders and frame her pristine white blouse.
The other woman is tall and Black. Her long hair is styled in thin dreadlocks that start black and shift to a rich red at the ends, and she’s wearing a wrap dress that shows off her generous curves to maximum effect.
The women are stunning.
They’re also two of the most dangerous people in Carver City.
Malone and Ursa.
Ursa’s attention lands on us and she gives a satisfied smile as if we’re right where she expected us to be. She motions for Malone to keep heading to the bar and strides to our booth, her brightly printed dress swishing with each step. She glances at the men and then narrows her attention on me. “My condolences on the loss of your father.” She almost sounds like she means it.