Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72617 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72617 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
“No, I don’t have an aversion to kissing.”
“Okay, then what is it?”
“I just happen to think that kissing is more intimate than sex... I only do it when it means something.”
“But how can you think that kissing is more intimate when you have to be undressed to have sex?”
“Think about it. You can have empty, no-feeling, inebriated, tequila-fueled sex without remembering a damn thing about the person you were fucking. Hell, you don’t even gotta look at them to fuck them.” His eyes locked on mine as he said, “But a kiss is different. It’s face to face. It leaves you vulnerable and open, and when it’s with someone you care about, good or bad, you’ll never forget it.”
“Oh.”
“And when I kiss you, and I do mean when, it’ll be something we’ll both remember. No doubt about it.”
CHAPTER 11
Wrath
I kept telling myself that I needed to go, but the longer I lay there next to her, the harder it became to leave. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so at ease, so at peace, and it was a far cry from the beginning of my day.
It had all started when I’d gotten up at sunrise and headed to the club.
As soon as I arrived, I went straight to the playroom to meet up with Stitch and the others. When I walked up, they were all waiting outside the door, and as soon as I approached, Cotton asked, “You good?”
“I’m here.” I ran my hand over my face and wrenched my back. “Ready to get my hands on our friend.”
“You sure you’re ready for this?”
Before I could answer, Stitch replied, “He’s ready.”
“I certainly hope so.” Cotton took a step towards me, then said, “We need to know who he was working for and why he killed Bruton’s men.”
I nodded, then started inside the room.
With my hand on the doorknob, I took a deep breath and thought back to everything Stitch had taught me.
Don’t make promises I can’t keep.
Start off simple and see where it takes you.
And never, under any circumstances, let them see you sweat.
I opened the door and found our captive sitting on an old metal stool with his hands bound above his head. There was a pool of blood at his feet, but it wasn’t enough to be concerned about. I felt certain that he could still give me the answers I needed. I walked over to the table of tools and grabbed a scalpel, then made my way over to the psycho hit man.
A smirk crept across his face as I knelt in front of him. “We meet again.”
“Not by my choice.” I took the sharp edge of the blade and ran it along the thick denim of his jeans. “If I had my way, you’d already be six feet under.”
“And yet, I’m still here.”
“For now.” The fabric fell open, exposing the wound on his thigh. It was gnarled and seeping like it had already grown infected. “That’s gotta hurt like a bitch.”
“Nothing I can’t handle.”
“We’ll see about that.”
I took the blade and raked it against his flesh, but he didn’t flinch. In fact, he showed absolutely no sign of fear as he said, “You’re wasting your time. I’m not going to talk.”
“You will.”
“I won’t, and neither would you.”
His response caught me off guard, but I didn’t let it deter me. I had a job to do, and the sooner I did it, the sooner I could get the information I needed and end this asshole once and for all. I took the scalpel and dug it into his thigh, removing a shotgun pellet. I let it fall to the ground, and it hit the concrete floor with a faint clink.
I looked up at him as I told him, “This isn’t about me.”
“You’re right. It isn’t.” His breath caught when I pressed the scalpel against his thigh and started to remove the next pellet. “This has nothing to do with you or your brothers.”
Clink.
“You made it about me when you chased me down and tried to kill me.”
“Even then, it wasn’t about you.”
I moved on to the next pellet as I asked, “Then, what or who was it about?”
Clink.
“You know who.”
“I wouldn’t be sitting here if I did.” The sick bastard had killed everything at the drop, making impossible to know who had truly sent him. I dug the scalpel into his wound, searching for the pellet that was embedded deep into his flesh. “Why don’t you enlighten me?”
“Why were you there in that lot yesterday?”
“I’m the one asking questions.”
I rammed the scalpel deep into his thigh and gave it a twist. He hissed through clenched teeth, then held his breath until I finally withdrew the blade. “You were there for him.”
“Why I was there is irrelevant. I want to know why you were there.”
I continued working on the pellets, focusing more on the deeper ones. I knew they would cause him more pain, and I hoped it would be enough to get him to quit with the run-around.