Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
“School today?” Bentley asks, his voice hopeful. I’ve kept him out for a few days while we sorted out a plan of action. That, and I don’t want him out of my sight until Bobbi is taken care of. But now that he is, I don’t see why Bentley can’t go. I don’t want to hit pause on our life because of Bobbi anymore.
“Go and get changed, and let’s go to school.”
He jumps up and rushes to his room to get ready. I follow him, go into my room to get dressed, and pack his backpack. When I drop him off at school, he runs off excitedly to play with his friends.
When I arrive back at home, the car Hawke and Ford have been sitting in is gone, most likely because they’ve already caught the assholes involved in this.
I sit in the car and stare at the house for a moment. I’m exhausted, and it’s going to be hard to focus today, knowing what’s happening. I check my phone, noticing I have a missed call from Dutton. When I go to return it, a motorcycle parks behind my car.
I grip my steering wheel. In true Bobbi fashion, he’s somehow managed to avoid Dutton and the others, most likely at the sacrifice of his men.
I quickly call Dutton.
“Bobbi is here,” I rush to tell him. And while I want to handle this situation myself, it’s nice to know someone has my back. Because I know things with Bobbi are about to get ugly. But without my son being here and knowing nothing can happen to him, my fighting instincts are coming out in full force.
“Fuck,” Dutton curses from the other end of the line. “We only got his men; Bobbi slipped out somehow. Where are you?” he asks, and I can hear tires squeal, telling me he’s on his way to me.
“In my driveway.”
“Good. I’m almost there. Back the car out now and leave.”
“He’s parked behind the car,” I tell him.
“Run him over,” he barks as if that was the obvious answer. Shaking my head, I know I can’t do that because of the big-ass motorcycle that my sad tires won’t get over. So I put the car in park and open the door. I’m sick of running.
And I feel the fire spark to life in the pit of my stomach.
Dutton says something else, but I hang up on him. Knowing he’s on his way is enough for me as I come face-to-face with Bobbi.
“Avoiding me?” he asks. I shut the car door and turn to face him.
“Like any human with a brain would do,” I snap back.
His hands curl into fists at his sides. “I see you’re fucking the Taylor kid,” he sneers. “They broke into the place I was staying and took two of my men. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
“The Taylor kid?” I laugh at him. “You’re literally only a few years older than him, and your brain is smaller.” Then my gaze drops to his crotch. “Come to think of it, you’re smaller than him in more ways than one.”
I knew it was coming before the words even left my mouth. But I couldn’t help myself. He swings his arm, and his fist connects with my jaw. I feel it crack and hope to God nothing is broken as I cup the side of my face.
“Get up, you stupid bitch. See, if you would have stayed with me to begin with, I wouldn’t have to teach you how to talk to me.”
Just then, a car screeches into the driveway. Dutton jumps from the car and strides straight over to us. He doesn’t even pause, stepping right up to Bobbi, and a fight breaks out. Only a few punches are thrown because Bobbi keels over when Dutton punches him in the stomach. I only hear a loud grunt as Dutton blocks my view of him.
“Did you think it was smart to come back here? I warned you that this was a bigger game than you were ready for,” Dutton says coolly.
“You stabbed me,” Bobbi says breathlessly, the handle of a knife sticking out from his gut.
I grab Dutton’s hand and pull him back. He turns and looks at me. His eyes go wide when he sees the discoloration blooming on my jaw. He touches it, and I flinch, even though he’s gentle as he does.
“Go inside and ice your face,” he tells me just as Eli and Hawke pull up in another car. Ford is most likely with Bobbi’s men.
I inhale a sharp breath because although I agreed to this, signing someone’s death warrant is serious business. I harden my resolve, reminding myself Bentley might’ve been here.
“The stab wound is not lethal; it’s why he’s still standing,” Dutton informs me, and he’s back to being the cold, calculating version of himself. Then he turns to address Bobbi. “I want you to know the only reason you’re still breathing is so I can show you how to treat a woman later.”