Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 69001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
And I saw that she was very much aware of the conversation at hand.
“You’re such a bitch,” she whispered, her voice hoarse.
I laughed. I couldn’t fuckin’ help it.
“At least I’m only one bitch. You’re like three bitches.”
The woman that I’d been talking to earlier, Winter, snorted. “Catori. That’s not nice to say about your own personal hero.”
Catori smiled. “Probably not.”
CHAPTER 5
The right woman should frighten you a little.
-Overheard conversation between Lynn and Laric
CATORI
I felt like utter shit.
I’d thought that I could tell what utter shit felt like based on having the flu last year, paired with strep throat, that turned into bronchitis.
I’d thought that I had an inkling of what ‘on death’s door’ really meant.
But I had no clue.
Because all eight times that I’d been brought back in that ambulance, I’d felt.
Honestly, I’d been doing poorly. I’d already pressed the damn pain button—or Adam had—at least four times now since I’d been awake. Apparently, you can do it like clockwork every fifteen minutes.
I’d pressed it a minute and thirty seconds before he’d walked through the door.
Now, I didn’t feel much pain.
Now, I only felt relief that he was there.
I’d thought I’d dreamed him.
But, technically, I had dreamed him.
The night that I’d seen him do his thing on camera, I’d dreamed about him all night. Then got up the next morning thinking about him.
How freakin’ ironic was it that I’d run into him only hours after watching him do that on the screen.
Then, in some sick twist of fate, he’d not only been there when Thor had done his worst to me, but he’d also saved me by all but leaning his entire body weight on my shoulder and making sure that I didn’t bleed out.
Complete strangers didn’t do that.
At least, most wouldn’t.
Then, in another twist of fate, mean guy Zach Caruso had also done some saving.
And now, I owed them both.
A lot.
“Did you just call him a bitch?” Adam’s wife, Amelia, asked.
“I don’t remember,” I lied. “This morphine does weird things to my brain.”
Amelia snorted loudly. “I think it’s a Stoker thing. Y’all not being able to remember the shit that comes out of your mouth not even two minutes ago. Or, for that matter, you can’t remember the stuff that comes out of other people’s mouths, either. Like me telling my husband that I need him to bring the dog food out of the truck. Then he forgets. Then he whines when I go get it myself.”
That’s when Laric chimed in. “You’re like thirty-five months pregnant. I think he has a right to get pissed that you’re lifting dog food.”
I could all but feel Amelia’s head turn toward Laric.
“You’re one of them,” she said, sounding horrified.
There was a long pause, and then chuckling.
“One of what?” Laric asked, looking cutely confused.
“Those alpha men,” she said, waving at his body with a sweep of her hand. “You’re one of those guys that likes to make women seem weak.”
Laric’s brows rose. “Is it considered weak that I want to make sure that a pregnant woman, carrying our next generation, doesn’t hurt herself or the baby? What’s it going to hurt to sit in the truck?”
“My dog was hungry,” Amelia countered.
“You could’ve just as easily gone out there, grabbed the dog bowl, and filled it up from the bag.” Laric suggested. “And then he wouldn’t be upset with you.”
Adam started to chuckle.
“He’s got you there, baby,” Adam teased.
Amelia sighed. “Logic. I hate it when you men use it. It takes the wind right out of my sails.”
Laric snickered, his eyes once again settling on me. Me, who hadn’t once taken her eyes off of the man in front of me.
His eyes took me in, and he tilted his head slightly. “You look at me like you know me. Am I missing something?”
I would’ve blushed if I could have.
Instead, I weakly laughed. “You just saved my life. I think that I know you about as well as anybody can.”
His eyes shuttered for a few long seconds. “I’m not a nice person.”
I tilted my head.
I’d heard my father and brother talking about Laric right before he’d come in.
I’d laid in bed, full of pain, and prayed that the distraction of listening to them talk would help ease the pain.
It didn’t.
But I’d learned a lot about Laric from what my dad had to say.
See, my father was a computer genius, as was my mom, who’d taught my dad everything that she knew when they were much younger than even I was at the moment.
They could find things on people that no normal people could find through direct means.
Laric was thirty-four, an ex-con, and worked with military working dogs to help find their forever homes after they came home from places like Iraq and Afghanistan. My father had spoken about what he’d heard about Laric—apparently it was due to him having a drunken tirade through town when he was freshly home from the war.