Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 105506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 422(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 422(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
When I was done being questioned, Colby ordered me to not move a muscle. Apparently, there was some sort of conference that needed to be held between the club and the cops.
I, of course, didn’t obey that command. It would’ve been boring, standing in one place with all of the action going on around me.
So I walked to the ambulance where Emily was sitting, looking shell-shocked.
She watched me approach warily, her gaze empty, unbelieving, as if she were trying to convince herself this was a dream.
“Thank you,” she whispered, clutching the blanket around her.
I recognized the look in her eyes. I still saw it in the mirror.
“I already told the police it was self-defense,” she murmured, her voice hoarse. “That he came at you, you had no other choice.”
“Thanks,” I smiled, deciding not to mention that it was kind of unnecessary.
The brand-new sheriff wasn’t brand-new at all. He was a lifetime resident of Garnett and a friend to the club.
No way was I getting into any trouble.
From the law, at least.
The angry biker in a huddle glaring at me on the other hand? Yeah, I was in big fucking trouble.
“The story, it’s dead,” Emily continued.
I returned my attention to her, my eyes widening. “What, you’re not going to file it now that you have first-hand experience?” I scoffed. “That just might get you the critical acclaim you’re looking for.”
“I’m not going to file it because I now have first-hand experience.” She looked ashamed. “I’m sorry. I learned my lesson.”
I nodded. “I think that getting kidnapped and almost murdered wasn’t the best way to learn this lesson, but thanks.” I glanced back at Colby. I had about ten seconds before he came over here, hauled me away and all but tossed me on the back of his bike.
“Give me your phone,” I held out my hand.
“You gonna smash this one too?” she tried to joke, handing it over with a shaking hand.
“I’m going to add my number,” I said, entering my details then handing it back to her. “In case you need to talk.” I looked at her, at the scene. “I don’t think there are many people who’ve been through this kind of thing, and there definitely isn’t a self-help book on it, so if you need to talk, or get drunk … call me. I’m one of the few who can tell you I know how you feel.” I looked back into the terrified eyes of a woman who had survived. “I can promise you, if you hold on long enough, it gets better.” The ground crunched behind me. “And you may just get a hot outlaw out of it.” I winked.
“We’re going. Now,” Colby growled, not giving Emily a second look as his hand locked around my upper arm and dragged me off. Safe to say, he was furious.
“Get. On. The. Bike.” He spoke through gritted teeth.
I did as he asked.
He gave me one last glare before he got on the bike himself, kickstarting it. I grabbed onto him tightly. His hand covered mine for a split second, squeezing it, reassuring me that he was still in there, underneath all that fury.
Then we roared off into the growing twilight.
It was a good thing Colby couldn’t speak to me during the ride home. I figured it would help him calm down.
I figured wrong.
He all but dragged me up the stairs to the apartment, cheeks red, chest heaving, grip tight enough to leave a mark.
“You have no idea how fuckin’ furious I am at you,” he slammed the door behind him so hard it literally came off the hinges.
The force of that surprised me. I knew he’d be pissed. Really pissed. But I didn’t think he’d lose control completely. Which he had.
The look in his eyes was wild. Feral. His forearms were corded with veins. The air about him was electric.
Some kind of latent survival instinct told me to run. That I was in danger. That this was a predator.
I held fast.
“The door has some idea how fucking furious you are,” I deadpanned even though my heart hammering.
“For the second time, you were in the presence of a man who enjoyed hurting women, killing them,” he seethed, striding toward me.
“For the first time, I was the one who hurt him, killed him,” I pointed out, spitting a fury of my own.
That made Colby’s steps falter. Slightly. I saw it. He was worried about me. Concerned about what this had done to me. I’d killed someone, after all. But he was livid. He was trying to fight off whatever rage these men lapsed into when shit like this happened.
“You need to fuck me,” I decided, my body no longer afraid.
He stopped in his tracks, hands fisted at his sides. “I can’t. I won’t be gentle.”
All of his considerable strength was going toward holding himself back, restraining all those dark urges I’d been feeding these past months.