Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
The sound of whimpering woke me, and I sat up from my slumped-over position on the sofa. I’d fallen asleep sitting up, watching Aspen sleep. The sound grew louder, and then a wail followed it as Aspen began to thrash in the bed.
Fuck! I kicked off my boots and climbed on the bed, pulling her against my chest.
“You’re safe, sweetheart. It’s okay. I’ve got you,” I whispered as my heart began to race in my chest.
I continued to soothe her, saying whatever I could think of, until she calmed in my arms. Her eyes fluttered before she opened them and stared up at me.
“Bad dream,” I told her. “You’re okay. I’m still here.”
She continued to stare up at me, studying me, as if she wasn’t sure who I was and why she was here. I wondered if she was even truly awake. Her eyes began to close again, and once she was breathing normally, I started to release her and get up.
“No!” Her panicked voice startled me. “Don’t go. Please.”
I nodded before settling back in. Her hands fisted my shirt, and she inhaled deeply, as if she liked smelling me.
“Whiskey smoke,” she murmured, then sighed as she drifted off to sleep again.
I stayed that way, watching her. What she had gone through tonight would haunt her for a long time. That realization bothered me when I thought of my plans to move her away and start a new life for herself.
Who would be there when the nightmares came? Or was this just tonight? Would they continue?
Fuck, this was a mess.
I was not the guy who took care of women. Well, other than making them scream with orgasms. That was where it ended for me. I wasn’t a caretaker. I wasn’t even fucking nice.
Why was I being so damn protective over this girl I didn’t know? Was it because she was young, or did I feel like I owed it to Kitty since I’d been there when she was shot?
It wasn’t like I was going to keep her. That was laughable. I didn’t keep females. No attachments. But I also couldn’t just let Aspen go without any help. I wasn’t a complete monster. About twenty percent of me was semi-good.
Seven
Levi
A knock on the door woke me, and I opened my eyes to see the early morning sunlight coming through the curtains. Slowly, I eased away from Aspen, not wanting to disturb her, and made my way to the door. I opened it, then stepped out, closing it behind me while looking at Huck, who didn’t appear angry any longer.
“Yeah?” I asked him.
He held up a stack of papers. “This came. You need to read it.”
The background check on Aspen. I took it from him, ready to find out something that would help me with figuring out what to do with Aspen’s future.
“Bring it down to the kitchen. Trinity has breakfast ready,” he told me.
We made our way downstairs silently. The papers in my hand seemed to have defused Huck’s temper, which meant I’d been right about her. He had looked it over and found no reason for alarm. The fact that he’d thought she’d be dangerous in the first place was ludicrous. She was like a damn porcelain doll. You couldn’t be fucking dangerous and look like that.
The smell of bacon, cinnamon rolls, biscuits, and other items filled the kitchen. Trinity enjoyed making large breakfasts, which Gage claimed was the only thing he missed about living here. He and his girlfriend, Shiloh, had recently moved into a smaller house he’d had built for them on the property. He hadn’t liked not having his privacy with Shiloh. Kye had mentioned hearing Shiloh scream out during sex once, and Gage had almost choked him out. The fucker was insane, but when it came to Shiloh, he was batshit crazy.
Since we always had the big breakfasts, I wasn’t surprised by Gage’s presence at the table when I entered. Kye wasn’t there though, and I realized I’d never checked to see if he’d returned last night.
“Kye made it home, right?” I asked.
Huck nodded. “He’s still in bed. He stayed with Liam until the club was emptied last night.”
Wanting to read the report first, I walked over to the table and pulled out a chair, then sat down. I flipped through it, glad it wasn’t very thick, before starting on the first page.
Aspen Rain Chance, born December 26, 2002, in Charlotte, North Carolina.
Parents—Misty Teresa Graves and Theo Frank Chance—killed in a boating accident on July 4, 2005.
Fuck, she’d not even been three years old yet when she lost her parents.
Sister: Irish Rose Chance, born July 10, 1996.
Address: 382B Holland Drive, Ocala, Florida.
I continued reading and found her father had been a foster child, no living adoptive parents. Her grandmother had raised them and died almost three months ago in Robertsdale, Alabama.