Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
He didn’t just see my body. My body’s a vessel. I’ve learned to detach as a matter of survival.
But just now, he saw so much more than that, and I hate that he did. He’s seen my fears. He saw me lose my mind, and I want to take cover.
I can’t, though. Too little, too late.
“Why’d you panic so?” he says, and the sharpened tone of his voice makes me look at him. That quickly, the kindness he showed me evaporates. He’s on edge again, the hunter watching the moves of his prey. His voice hardens to granite. “Your boyfriend calling you?”
I hold the blanket tighter. I’m no fucking wilting violet, and I won’t let him intimidate me, but still, I can’t help but cringe a little.
What the hell is he talking about?
“My boyfriend?”
He rolls his eyes and swings his legs over the side of the bed.
“Your fucking boyfriend,” he says. “I saw the phone. I saw the name come up. Tiernan wants a word, does he? Afraid he’ll dump your pretty arse when he finds out who you really are?”
I can’t stop the sudden fury he inspires in me. It isn’t fair how easily the fucker can make me snap. I won’t tell him I don’t have a boyfriend. He doesn’t deserve to know it’s my brother that calls me, that they depend on me. It’s too close to the vest, and he doesn’t deserve to know anything that personal.
“Fuck off.”
A muscle ticks in his jaw and he crosses his arms on his chest, shaking his head.
“You really haven’t learned, have you?”
I blink, unable to respond. My fucking gob. Gets me in fucking trouble, every time.
“Probably not,” I say, still seething. “But I suppose you’re willing and able to teach me.”
He holds my gaze, his eyes narrowed and his jaw tight. I wonder if he regrets holding me just now, soothing me. “Ah, lass,” he says so softly I can hardly hear him. “You have no fucking idea. Now tell me, or we’ll have another session of ask and tell. Was it your boyfriend calling you?”
My plan not to tell him something’s crap. If Tiernan called, there’s an emergency. And if he called, I need to find out why.
“No,” I tell him. If I give him enough truth, maybe he’ll buy it. “Not my boyfriend. Tiernan’s a friend of mine, and he only ever calls if there’s a very serious emergency.”
He blinks, absorbing this, then nods slowly. “Right,” he says. “So if I call Tiernan back, then, I won’t find a pissy boyfriend on the other line?”
Is he testing me? I swallow and hold his gaze. I can’t let him intimidate me, not this time.
“You will not.”
A knock comes at the door, and he curses under his breath. “I’ll be right back. You stay right fucking there, or that spanking you got earlier will look like a joke.”
He waits until I respond. All I manage is a curt nod. I won’t move. Not yet.
He goes to the door, and I hear him talking to someone. Their voices rise and fall, and then the door slams shut. I wait for him to come back to the room, but he doesn’t at first. I get out of the bed and stand, half tempted to go in the other room to see what he’s doing, but I’m not sure it’s worth provoking him again. I don’t hear his footsteps because of the carpeting. A moment later, he’s darkening the doorway to the bedroom and my phone rests in his hand.
“Password protected,” he says wryly, crossing the room to me. “And when I say stay right there, I fucking mean it.” He places the phone in his pocket, grabs the duvet, and yanks me back over to the bed, forcing me into a sitting position.
“Who was at the door?”
I’ve learned to be the pain in the arse. You get a lot more answers that way, even if it pisses people off. I’ve grown used to that part.
But he’s good at this. He doesn’t even bother to respond, and hands me my phone. “Unlock it, then hand it back to me.”
I don’t want him to know my secrets, but my need to find out if they’re okay trumps my need for this tiny bit of privacy. I take the phone he hands me and punch in my passcode.
“Good. Now disable the privacy settings.”
I pause when he gives that instruction. If I disable my passcode, he’ll have total access to my phone, and I don’t like that at all. I’ve hidden most of the important files, though, and he’s not giving me a choice. So I do what he says and disable the passcode. I’ll get it later. I’ll wipe it. Right now, I need to call Tiernan.
“Good,” he repeats. “Now call Tiernan back on speakerphone. Find out why he called.”