Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 44321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 222(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 222(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
He groaned. “You’re going to be a good girl?” he asked.
“Yes, for you.” She ran her hands up his chest, taking the shirt with her, and he helped her pull it off over his head. Faith stroked across his ink.
“You know, if you’re wanting some ink of your own, you can have it.”
She placed her finger against the doves with the skulls coming out of it. “How do I get one of these?” she asked.
Brute took position of her hand, the one that had the dove, which had been forced upon her.
“You pledge your loyalty to me, to the club, and promise you won’t ever go back. Going back is a death sentence.”
“Then I’ll do it,” Faith said.
“Faith, it will mean you’re one of us.”
“You and I both know I can’t go back. Not with what I’ve done. Not with what has happened. They’re going to kill me anyway.”
“This is your last choice?” he asked.
“No, this was my choice before everything was taken away,” Faith said. “I didn’t want to go back, but I … you had a man you needed to bargain for.”
“Tank.” He’d been keeping himself to the basement, training, and practicing, trying to get back all Sergey had tried to take. He often said he was fucked in the head after what he had seen.
Brute kissed the inside of her wrist and pushed some of her hair out of the way. “You didn’t mind?”
“He didn’t deserve to be hurt. I could see that. They had hurt him really bad and I haven’t seen him … is he okay?”
“He’s fine.”
“You know, a lot of people wouldn’t accept being traded.”
She shrugged. “I guess I’m not like a lot of people. My mother wasn’t the best one in the world, but I still loved her and mourned her after she was gone. I still miss her. It’s crazy, I know, because she was so cruel and she had her own agenda as well. She wanted to be better placed with my grandfather, but they would never let her.”
He had a feeling Nikki had something to do with that, but he wasn’t about to tell her that her father was the reason.
“If you will have me, Brute, I’d like to stay.”
She had nowhere else to go and even though he would never admit it, he didn’t want her to leave.
Chapter Twelve
The ink on the inside of her wrist was a little itchy. It was covered and the tattooist had been clear about keeping it clean and putting on lotion. Brute had promised to help her and he’d been there while she got it done.
Faith had no choice but to wait for the guys to vote on it. She didn’t know exactly what it meant. All Brute said was that she was now one of them. The club would demand her loyalty. Nothing had changed, not really. Some of the women were not happy with her, and most often glared at her. She didn’t mind. It had always been quite hard for her to make friends. Again, she never understood or knew why. She didn’t repel anyone, or cause any waves, but she always figured it was because of her mother and who her mother enjoyed as company. The Bratva were always a scary bunch. Now at the clubhouse, one of the guys, Igor, had told her it was because she had the full attention of Brute—the one they all wanted.
She placed one of the bed sheets on the washing line, and placed several pegs over it. The weather was set to change, but until it did, she was hopeful of enjoying some fresh sheets.
“So, we meet again.”
She spun around to see Tank.
“Tank,” she said. On instinct, she went to him and hugged him.
He had lost a lot of weight since she last saw him. The bruises were gone and Brute had told her Tank was healing. There didn’t seem to be any sign of broken bones or indication of pain.
Tank gave her a hug and then she pulled away. Brute had told her if she didn’t want to make waves, then she wasn’t to flirt with any of the men.
Faith hadn’t told him she didn’t know how to flirt, and besides, she considered herself Brute’s. She didn’t want any other man, and that was probably an insane feeling to have, but she had it.
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m doing better.”
“You look great,” she said.
“I look like shit. You and I both know that. It wouldn’t be ideal for you to start lying, Faith.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean—”
Tank held up his hand and she went silent.
“You don’t need to talk,” Tank said. “I was just giving you some advice. I know I look like shit. I have your grandfather to thank for that.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t do that shit. Don’t apologize for him. You didn’t fucking do it, so don’t keep taking the blame for stuff you didn’t do.”