Total pages in book: 190
Estimated words: 181992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 181992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
It wasn’t that he was being cold or insensitive. He was just so damn pissed that he was struggling to hold himself in check. It was clear by the vengeful glint in his eyes, the tension in his jaw, the stiff set of his shoulders, and the forced calm in his tone.
I could almost see him plotting what exactly he’d do once he had Thaddeus in his grasp. Could almost see the dark fantasies playing out in his imagination. Could detect the little flickers of sadistic promise in the depths of his eyes.
Dax had repeatedly warned me about the violent side of his nature. Intellectually, I’d known it existed. But it was only now that I got a real glimpse of it. He didn’t look like he wanted to punch someone, he looked like he wanted to bludgeon them to death. Not that I believed he would, just that a mere beating wouldn’t cut it for him in this case.
Really, I doubted he’d have settled on a simple beating even if it hadn’t been my car that Thaddeus barreled into tonight. Twice in the past Dax had told him to pull his shit together or deal with the repercussions. The shit had ignored those warnings, tempted fate, and now he was fucked.
I chugged down my whiskey and then winced as pain lanced through my chest. I rubbed it. “Hurts.”
“That’ll be thanks to the seatbelt,” said Dax, still sounding unnaturally composed, as he took the glass from me.
“Yup. I’m gonna be hurting like hell tomorrow.” Whiplash was a bitch. “I hope the same can be said for Thaddeus.” The asshole would deserve it.
“I spoke to his father on the phone,” Dax told me, setting the tumbler on the table. “The man is a mess. Angry at himself for being so lenient with his son all his life. Angry at Thaddeus for causing injury to another person. Angry at his wife for refusing to accept that their son has a drinking problem. But he’s also torn up because he knows I’m going to make Thaddeus pay for this.”
“Did he ask you to take it easy on Thaddeus?”
“Yes. As if I’d ever agree to that.” Dax’s flinty gaze roved over my face with a predatory focus. “He could have killed you.” His voice was low. Rough. Irate.
The dark promise of retribution that was buried beneath his words made a little chill dance over my nape.
“Not that the piece of shit will care about that.” He cricked his neck. “He’ll be sorry he crashed his car into yours, but only because of who you are to me. He won’t want to face the consequences.” Pausing, Dax rolled back his tense shoulders. “But he will.”
Hating to see him so steeped in anger, I patted the seat beside me. “Come sit here,” I invited, injecting a soothing note to my tone.
One brow imperiously flew up. “You think you have a chance of calming me down?” he asked. No, mocked. “That won’t happen any time soon.”
Well, yeah, I’d sensed that much. I reached out to grab his hand but stilled at the sharp look he gave me.
“Don’t,” he gritted out.
I dropped my hand with a sigh. I knew what was fucking with him. He’d lost someone before. I might not mean as much to him as she had, but he cared about me enough that it would have been a blow if he’d lost me, too.
He stepped back. “You should go to bed. I’ll join you in a little while.”
No, he wouldn’t. His intention was to keep his distance until his anger had cooled. I understood, but I didn’t want him to be alone. My gut told me that that wasn’t what he truly needed.
Of course … telling him that would not help my cause. He’d get all offended and frowny. So I’d have to tell him something else; something that was equally true. “If you laugh about this I’ll hurt you, but I don’t wanna be by myself right now. Call me clingy and weak if you want, but I need you to stay with me.”
The ice in his gaze cracked, and he dragged in a long breath. “I’m not in a good place.”
I bit my lip. “Me neither.”
He hauled in another breath—this one longer, deeper, making his chest expand.
Moving stiffly, he sat beside me. Then he did the unexpected: He gently pulled me close, buried a hand in my hair, and palmed the side of my neck.
I melted into him and planted a hand on his chest. Silence fell between us. It wasn’t comfortable. It was tense and weighty and thick with emotion. So I broke it and said, “I was in a crash once before. A highway accident. There was a car pile-up.”
His lips grazed my unwounded temple. “I know, I heard. Brooks kept me updated on how you were doing.”