Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
“I don’t. Have any plans, that is. But I can appreciate how sleeping without someone you barely know staring at you would be more comfortable. Before I go, though, I want to give you something to think about. I know nothing about your life, but you don’t seem eager to contact anyone. The other women associated with the motorcycle club and I are in the process of developing a shelter for women in your very position. We are nearly finished with construction but won’t be fully operational for a few more months. That being said, we’d like to offer you a room, a place to stay for as long as you need it once you’re discharged. It’ll be a fantastic place to heal. You’ll also be able to see Brenna whenever you want. The building is on the club’s property. It’s very secure and extremely safe. You’ll have nothing to fear while you're there.”
Nothing but a legion of giant bikers.
Men.
Large, rough men with a capability for violence.
The thought of being anywhere near that kind of population drove a bolt of fear into her heart. There was no way in hell she’d survive a place like that, even if Harper hit the nail on the head.
She’d be better off returning to her studio apartment. It’d be lonely, but being alone meant no one could hurt her.
“Thank you, Harper,” she said with a smile that felt as phony as it was. “I will really think about it. It could be perfect for me.”
Liar.
“Great.” Harper beamed as she stood. After one final squeeze of Kelsie’s hand, she gathered her purse. “We’ll give you a few hours to rest. Either Brooke or I will be back this afternoon… maybe even Brenna. I have a feeling we won’t be able to keep her away. She’s extremely worried about you.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
She wanted to say it wasn’t necessary. To beg Harper to leave her alone, but she couldn’t be that rude to such a sweet woman.
“I left you a prepaid phone with my number in it. Call if you need anything. I think Brooke’s is in there as well, and Tyler's, too, since you seemed okay around him.”
Her cheeks heated. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Harper nodded. “Try to get some rest.”
“I will.”
The people who rescued her hefted so much kindness and compassion her way over the past few hours that she had no idea how to deal with it. Kelsie was used to being on her own—working alone, living alone, just being alone. Life was easier that way.
But it was so damn lonely, which was why she’d caved and gone on that date with Oliver.
The man who’d drugged her and destroyed what little life she had.
She closed her eyes and willed herself to sleep. Eons seemed to pass where she hovered in a half-awake, half-asleep, minimally restful state. But maybe that was a trick of the mind. Maybe she’d fallen into a deep dream-filled slumber because, at one point, she could have sworn she opened her eyes to find a stunning man with tattoos, muscles, and a deep scowl seated next to her bed.
Dream Tyler never spoke to her, but his presence warmed and calmed her. She felt safe and protected for the first time in a week, hell, in months. His imaginary presence allowed her to slip into the deep, restorative sleep her body needed.
When she awoke, the vision vanished, and he wasn’t there, of course, but her head felt clearer than it had in ages.
Thank you, dream Tyler.
With a newfound clarity, one thing was certain—Kelsie couldn’t stay at the shelter Harper mentioned. She couldn’t even stay in the hospital.
It was time to move on before her secrets were exposed and her life imploded yet again.
CHAPTER ONE
NOTHING GOOD COULD come from opening the damn box.
Hell, he wasn’t the first to come across this dilemma. Pandora herself faced this very challenge, but she wasn’t smart enough to walk away. She’d peeked inside and unleashed a million horrors.
Was he stupid enough to repeat her legendary mistake?
Probably.
With a disgusted huff, he shoved the ten-by-ten-inch safe across his shop’s counter. A few months ago, he’d discovered the blasted box buried in the back of a closet in his spare room. The thing must have been there for more than a decade as it was his ex-wife’s, and they divorced a few years after Curly went to prison nearly fifteen years ago.
“Still staring at that thing?” Lock’s voice sounded over the bell's chime, indicating his arrival.
Ty looked up into the smirking face of his club brother, the locksmith who’d been the man to crack this safe.
“Yep. Just reveling in the discomfort of indecision before I inevitably open it and find something left by my ex-wife that’ll cause me months of turmoil.”
“You know, it might be empty. Maybe she took whatever was in there before she left.” He rested his forearms on the counter as they stared at the box between them. “You could be torturing yourself for nothing.”