Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 95273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
She jerks back as if I’ve just hit her, her big, blue eyes full of fire. “Of course not. Jesus, of course not.”
“Then I don’t give a shit. When you want to tell me, you will.”
“As simple as that?”
“It doesn’t have to be hard. Now, what do we need to do? Who do we need to call?”
She chews her lip, and it looks like she might cry again, but she squares her shoulders and pulls her phone out of her pocket.
“I need to call my people and find out if anyone can cover those two condos. Then, I have to call the owner of the one I was cleaning. And I really, really need to eat something.”
I grin at her. “You make those calls, and I’ll handle the food.”
“Deal. And, Brady?” She smiles up at me. “Thank you. No one has ever had my back like that. Not since my mom died.”
God, I want to tell her that I’ll have her back every goddamn day for the rest of her life, but I can’t promise that.
Instead, I gently kiss her sweet lips and brush her hair over her shoulder.
“I’m right here,” I whisper before I set her on the couch and stand to cross the room to place my own call for food.
An hour later, once we’ve polished off a pizza and Abbi seems to be much calmer, she sighs and smiles over at me.
“As much as I’d like to stay here with you all night, I should go home to Daisy. I have some arnica there for this bruise, and I need to do some rearranging on the schedule for the rest of the week.”
“I understand. I’ll take you home, and my brothers and I will get your car for you later.”
“You can just take me up there now, and I’ll drive it home. It’s no big deal.”
“No. I’ll take you home.” I soften the statement with a kiss and then help Abbi clean up from our surprise visit to the rental before I drive her the short distance to her townhouse. “Do you need anything?”
“No, I’m honestly fine. Do you want to come in?”
Surprisingly, no. I don’t want to come in. I want to work off some pent-up aggression.
“Actually, I think I’m going to go to the gym for a while, unless you need me.”
“By all means, go to the gym,” she replies with a smile and leans in to kiss my cheek. I grip her chin, turn her lips to mine, and kiss her long and slow, until she whimpers against me. “Maybe we should have stayed at Polly’s place, after all.”
I grin at her. “Soon, I’d like to have uninterrupted, kid-free time with you. But for today, I’ll say goodbye.”
“Soon,” she says and turns away to get out of the car. “Now, go lift some weights. Your arms are my favorite.”
I quirk up a brow. “Is that so?”
“Super hot,” she confirms and steps out of the 4Runner. “I’ll see you at the gala, if not before.”
“It’ll probably be before,” I assure her with a wink, and once she’s inside, I pull out of her driveway and let the fear, the absolute rage pulse through me. I’ve held it back over the past couple of hours because that’s not what she needed from me.
But now, I need to beat the shit out of something, so I dial Ryan’s number.
“Chase told us,” my brother says by answering. “What do you need?”
“Your gym,” I reply grimly. “More specifically, the bag.”
“It’s yours, help yourself. Need someone to spar with?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. I’m pretty shitty company right now, Ry. I want to kill that motherfucker.”
“I get it. I’d want the same in your shoes. Hit the bag for a while.”
“Thanks.”
I park just outside of Ry’s shop, where the gym is also housed. It has its own entrance in the back, and because my brother is who he is, this gym is likely outfitted with better and more state-of-the-art equipment than the actual gym just outside of town.
When I walk in, I find Jake on the treadmill, earbuds in his ears, sweating as he jogs. I wave at him and head straight to the corner, where a punching bag hangs.
After slipping on gloves so I don’t tear my knuckles apart, I start in. First, I see that asshole’s face from today, and I pound it as hard as I can. Then I make my way through the fuckers that were supposed to protect Abbi when she was a teenager. The ones who not only hit her, but raped her, and tore apart her mental health, as well. She didn’t spell it out for me, but it was clear.
And I wish I could make them all pay.
So, I hit and hit and hit until my arms and shoulders sing in protest. Until I’m fighting for breath and every inhale is pure fire. Until all the injuries I’ve ever had—and there are more than I can list—scream in protest.