Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
“Knock it off, Slade,” Daniella calls back from the kitchen. “You're going to give your sisters nightmares.”
He smiles against my lips before turning to look at the girls. “Oh, I’ll give them something to have nightmares about,” he teases, making their eyes bug out of their head. He flinches and the terrified screams that come tearing out of them have us in stitches.
“Seriously?” Daniella groans, sticking her head around the corner so she can glare at her son. “Is it really that hard to keep the peace?”
Slade nods. “Damn straight. They made it so I couldn’t kiss my girl.”
“No,” I say, scrunching my face in disgust and pulling away. “They’re right. It is gross.”
Slade’s mouth drops open, horrified by my betrayal as his sisters roar with laughter and cheer for me as though I’m their hero. “You’re going to regret that,” he warns.
I wink. “Doubt it.”
Slade’s eyes bug out and he makes his move. He dives for me and I scramble away, accidentally slamming my thigh into the armrest of the couch. “Oh, sweet mother of holy fucking shit,” I screech, clutching onto my leg.
“Fuck, babe. Are you alright?”
I nod, clenching my teeth while trying to take soothing, deep breaths as Daniella comes bounding out of the kitchen. “It’s fine. I just need a minute,” I tell them.
Slade scrambles for my leg, wanting to see if I caused any damage but I know I didn’t. The wound has mostly healed. I’m just left with a nasty, deep purple scar that’s tender and hates me, but don’t get me wrong, there’s still going to be a long journey before I can slam my leg into furniture and not crumble with pain.
The girls crowd around while I try to nudge Slade away with my elbows. “Did you really get shot?” Emma asks with her big puppy dog eyes, wanting me to say yes because that would be kinda cool but also not having wanted me to get hurt.
“I sure did,” I tell her, trying to remove the pain from my face as I talk to her.
Rain sucks in a deep breath. “Can I see it? Do you have a scar?”
“I mean…” I glance up at Daniella, not sure if this is something she’d approve of but when she shrugs and scrunches her face into an ‘I couldn’t give a shit’ expression, I continue. “There’s a scar, but I’m not sure it’s something you want to see. It’s not pretty.”
They both nod eagerly. “Oh, I want to see it,” Rain rushes out, making me worry about her sanity.
I look over at Slade who also shrugs so I figure, what the hell. I shuffle around on Slade’s lap and curl my fingers under the edge of my shorts. I carefully pull them up, holding my breath, knowing that when my clothes rub over it, it usually hurts.
I get it up over the bullet scar and the girls instantly lose their minds, even Daniella is leaning in for a closer inspection. “Oh my, God,” Emma squeals, grabbing the sides of my thigh and making me flinch as she practically shoves her head in my lady bits to look at the scar up close and personal. “You really got shot.”
Rain just stares with her mouth hanging open.
“It really is a nasty scar, isn’t it?” Daniella says with a pained sigh, leaning over and squeezing Slade’s shoulder. “I can’t imagine how awful that would have been. That whole night. I’m so grateful to have you both still here and smiling. I don’t know what I’d do if I had lost you.”
Slade reaches up and squeezes her hand on his shoulder. “I’m right here, mom.”
There’s a silence that follows that feels all too heavy and has me wanting to break, but I keep it together, determined not to show my weakness in front of Slade’s little sisters.
“Alright,” Slade finally says, pulling my shorts back into place and shooing his sisters away. “That’s enough gawking at my girlfriend.”
“But she’s so cool,” Emma declares with a pout. “Only superheroes survive gunshots.”
“And don’t you forget it,” Slade grins while my ego grows so big my head practically explodes.
The girls reluctantly trudge away and occupy themselves with their iPads while Daniella falls onto the couch beside us. “Have you thought about what you want to do for your eighteenth? It’s only a month away now,” she questions, trying to stick to positive topics, not realizing what an awful one my birthday is.
“I, uhh…” shit. What am I supposed to tell her? That I’m supposed to be walking down the aisle to Marcus Mahony on my eighteenth and probably spending the night getting raped? Slade curls his arm around me, holding me tight and giving me exactly what I need to continue. “Honestly, my eighteenth birthday has always been something to fear, nothing worth celebrating.”