Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 142783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
I swallowed down the disquiet.
“I do.”
Because he was supposed to be mine, and I’d been living that stark, gutting truth for the last seven years. Sacrificing it all to protect the one that mattered to me.
He gripped the side of my face, so out of the blue my mouth dropped open at the blaze of his palm against my skin. “And here you are.”
I guessed the reality of what I was asking of him had finally penetrated his hardened exterior.
I gulped the trepidation down. “My father promised time. Promised he would allow me this. Here. With you. I have until the New Year. Thirty days. He told me he would order Jarek to stand down.”
Logan let go of a disbelieving sound. “You don’t actually think that pompous prick takes orders from anyone?”
“From my father, yes.” My spirit shook, hoping it was the truth. “Why don’t you take me back to the apartment, though? There’s no reason to drag your family into this.”
Logan leaned farther over the console. All menace and power, the words razors that cut through flesh. “Is it wrong I don’t want to let you out of my sight?”
“You don’t have to protect me.”
His hand spread farther across my cheek. “I might hate you, Aster, but I see your fucking pain. I know you’ve been hurt. So don’t fucking tell me you don’t need protected, even if what you need protected from is yourself.”
My breaths were ragged when he suddenly pulled away and climbed from the car. I was still stuck in the same spot when he opened mine and extended a hand to help me out. “Come with me.”
I obeyed, tried not to whimper when he pulled me against the hot, hard planes of his body as I was struck with a blast of frigid cold.
He balanced me on the slick, frozen ground. “Are you good?”
No.
Not even close.
I gave a quick nod, and he returned his hand to the small of my back as he guided me to the main doors.
Logan dug into the inside pocket of his suit jacket, pulled out two tickets, and presented them to the man accepting them at the door.
“We’d better find our seats.” Logan took my hand and hauled me inside. He wound us through the crowd, and I struggled to keep up as we moved across the lobby and through another set of double doors into a multipurpose room.
The second we stepped inside, the overhead lights dimmed, and people rushed to find a place to sit.
Metal chairs had been set up in long rows, and one aisle ran down the middle leading to a stage at the base of them.
Strings of twinkling white Christmas lights were strung from the ceiling, casting the huge room in a festive ambiance. Decorated trees lined the walls, carols played overhead, and a buzz of excitement filled the air.
Every once in a while, I could hear the squeal of a child from backstage.
Logan’s hand twitched on my back, as if he felt the sting of it, too. But I knew he didn’t come close to understanding what that pain really meant.
How I had to guard myself from getting swept into a fantasy I would never get to live.
A speaker squelched, and a spotlight lit the black curtains that shrouded the stage that was elevated by three feet.
An older gentleman walked out in front of them, a microphone in his hand and a smile on his face.
Logan continued to lead me down the middle aisle as the man began to speak.
“Welcome to this year’s holiday performance. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Gary Murphy, the owner and director of the school, and I cannot tell you how excited we are to have you here this evening. The children have been working incredibly hard to put on this wonderful show for you, and I know you are going to be wowed.”
Everyone clapped.
Anxiousness tightened my lungs as Logan moved all the way down to the front row before he ducked to avoid the spray of a spotlight as he angled for two remaining seats about five chairs in.
My head was lowered like I could hide, too, and I almost breathed out in relief when Logan plopped me onto a chair and slipped onto the one next to me on the left, only that breath hitched in my throat when I saw who sat on the other side of him.
Trent Lawson.
I’d caught sight of him only for the barest flash this morning when I’d been following behind Logan, but I’d ducked out of view so I wouldn’t be discovered.
The man had always been terrifying. A cold current running through his blood and hardening his nearly black eyes. He came with a reputation.
A ruthless one.
Tatted from head to toe, the colors swirled out from beneath his clothing to cover his throat and hands.