Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 117820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
“Get off me.”
He immediately stops and rests on his arm so he can look down at me, bewildered. “The fuck?”
“Get off.”
He complies, pulling out and leaning back onto his knees. I scramble to pull my gown down. “You didn’t come.”
“Lost it.”
“Then give me chance to build it up again. You know I always do.”
“I’m not in the mood,” I admit, hugging myself as I move to the bedroom.
He laughs coldly. “This because of what I said? You lose it because of that?”
I roll my eyes, hiding not only my hurt but everything else. “Nope.”
“You know I didn’t mean it. You just piss me off is all.”
“I don’t care, Kane. Go back to Faceless.” I slam the bedroom door closed behind me and start stripping out of my clothing. It hits the floor with a gentle thud mimicking the almost vacant beat of my heart.
It’s not until I’m under the hot spray of the shower that I let myself cry. The water hides the tears but it doesn’t drown out the sound of my sobs.
I told myself I’d be strong, but how can I be strong when I’m nothing but a cracked shell with a hollow center?
The shower door opens and closes and Kane steps in fully naked. His body presses against my back and he holds me so tight I can hardly breathe.
“We’ll find her, Immy.”
“We won’t.”
“We will.” He kisses the curve of my shoulder. “We’ll find you too.”
I bite my lip and sniffle like a child. “I still love you Kane. I can feel it there, it’s deep, it’s buried under a lot of heavy shit but it’s there. Couldn’t hurt you. I thought it’d be easier this way. I thought you’d move on and forget all about me.” It’s not a lie either. “I thought you’d get married, have kids… didn’t think I’d ever have to explain this shit to you.”
“I know.” He kisses my neck this time after pulling my hair to one side. “You don’t gotta say it again. You don’t gotta say shit to me again, Imogen. No more explainin’.” He caresses my stomach, gently gliding his fingers over my scar. “Just healing now. Gonna fix you. Gonna fix us both.”
“You really think we’ll find her?”
“Absolutely. Not a doubt in my mind.”
For the first time since she was taken, there’s not a doubt in mine either.
“You’ve gotta hold still,” I hiss as he slides his hand up my thigh.
The buzzing machine in my hand rolls over his skin, leaving beads of ink and blood. He told me to tattoo him, who was I to say no? Though there’s not much of his skin left that isn’t branded already, I get the space over his heart and I’m using it wisely.
“Naw, you won’t fuck up.” He’s so cocky, still the same as he was way back then. It makes me smile, not like I used to, but the smile is real. “You’re the prettiest girl I ever saw, Imogen Hardy.”
“Stop,” I growl playfully, and dip the needle into the ink. Then I look at the tattoo on his inner wrist. It’s my tattoo, one that tells the world Kane is mine and always will be. I guess his love for me is as permanent as the ink imbedded in his skin. Even after all this time.
He tenses as the bell above the door beeps.
“Hi honey, I’m home,” Marshall announces, his shoes clicking on the sterile ground. “Kane Jessop as I live and breathe.”
“Marshall Jones,” Kane replies, making me stop what I’m doing so he can stand and shake Marshall’s hand.
Marshall eyes Kane’s bare chest with no small amount of appraisal.
“Is my Immy working her inky magic?” Marshall asks and Kane, who is chewing on a wad of gum nods and reclaims his seat.
“She’s better than she says,” he admits, looking down at the piece I’ve already spent two hours on.
Which is saying something because I can get kind of braggy.
“Agreed.” Marshall winks at me. “So y’all are both back in each other’s lives?”
“Yeah,” I answer and Marshall’s face gets all smug.
“So, I made the right call.”
“Should’a made that call a lot sooner,” Kane puts in but there’s no vehemence. He’s simply stating a fact he believes. “How have you been, Martian?”
“Never disliked that name, Jessop.” Marshall straddles a chair backwards. “But I’ve been good. As have you. I can tell. Size of those biceps.” He whistles low and long which has me rolling my eyes. “Still lifting tires at your daddy’s garage?”
Kane nods and smiles softly at me. “Course. Where else would I be?”
“Your ambition is admirable,” Marshall jokes, his sarcasm evident in his tone.
Kane flips him off and motions for me to start again. “Fuck you. I’m earning more doing what I do than most people.” He’s probably right about that. No shame in being a mechanic, and a good one. Heard he sprays cars and does all the pretty shit to them as well now which isn’t an easy trade. “What are you doing these days?”