Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 148238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 741(@200wpm)___ 593(@250wpm)___ 494(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 741(@200wpm)___ 593(@250wpm)___ 494(@300wpm)
Everything about him seethed with rage, his hair was tussled, and the scent of winds, salt, and leather threaded with the sharpness of alcohol.
Where had he been? He’s been fighting.
Kill never looked at me. Instead, he directed his anger at Grasshopper. “I see you’re disobeying me again and feeding the damn girl?”
My back bristled. I wanted to yell at him to talk to me, but my lips stayed firmly glued.
Grasshopper stood, wiping his hands on his faded jeans. “Hey, Prez. My bad. She’s been cooped up in that room for a couple of days—felt it important to give her some fresh air, you know?”
Mo’s eyes bored into the back of my head, but I never took my attention off Kill. I drank him in from his bloody knuckles to the grass stain on his jeans. My mind raced with all sorts of fabrications of what he’d been doing the last two days.
I’d missed him.
I wanted to tend to his new injuries just like I’d done the first night I’d arrived. I wanted to heal him—fix whatever drove him to such destructive behavior.
Maybe he wasn’t fighting? Maybe it was self-defense?
My mind skipped into all new horrors thinking of him being hurt maliciously by others.
Unconsciously, I leaned forward, drawn to him as surely as a tide to the moon. “You’re hurt.”
His nostrils flared and the cognizant awareness between us sprang up as if we’d never touched or kissed or fucked. It was thick and rampant and bogged down with issues—but there. And strong. So damn strong.
My skin prickled with heat and my core melted beneath his scrutiny.
“Why the fuck did you call me, Hopper? You knew the plan. You knew why I wanted it this way.” Kill ran a hand through his tangled hair, still refusing to look at me.
“Got something to check. To make sure once and for all—before your chance is gone—that what you believe is true.”
“Fuck you, man. I told you.” Kill stepped forward, the room glittering with violence. The other men stood up, the soft scrape of chairs and rush of mixed breathing setting everyone on edge.
“You can curse at me all your want, Kill, but hear her out. Last time. I fucking swear it. And then she’s leaving. Gone.”
Kill blanched at the term “gone.” His knuckles whitened, clenching harder.
In the sudden cease-fire, Grasshopper pulled me from my chair. I stumbled upright, moving to stand before Kill. Grasshopper didn’t remove his hold, his fingers burning around my elbow.
His body locked in place, preparing himself. “She remembered her name.”
The wave of emotion from Kill almost drowned me. So much in one buffet of feeling—I’d never decipher it all.
Kill’s eyes fell to where Grasshopper touched me. Dark possession flashed across his face. My stomach fluttered with butterflies.
I want you to touch me.
I want you to remember me.
Then Kill crossed his arms, shutting me out, just like the damn wall living in my brain. “You brought me back for more lies?” His ire fell on me, his green eyes blazing like an emerald fire. “This will be fucking interesting.”
I swallowed. A whiff of alcohol once again crept over my senses. Was he drunk? Hungover?
“You’re so blind.”
His lips twisted into a sneer. “I’m blind because I won’t fall for a scam?”
“No. You’re blinded by grief and stubbornness.”
Kill flinched, shifting closer so his body heat tangled with mine. “You know nothing of stubbornness.”
God, he annoyed me. Without persistence I wouldn’t be standing here right now. I would’ve already been sold because I wouldn’t have offered to heal him and found a way into his life.
Words and anger frothed in my mouth, I wanted so much to let loose.
But the stiff way Kill held himself, the hunch of his shoulders and knotted muscles in his neck were signs of a man struggling—a man in bone-deep pain. I couldn’t kick him when he already curled around what was left of his tattered heart. To love a ghost so strongly that the man literally killed himself with heartbreak ought to be romantic.
It wasn’t.
It was just endlessly, terminally sad.
And nonsensical.
Especially because as I believed I had the power to relieve his suffering.
Grasshopper shoved me forward. “You wanted to see him. I got him here for you. Best tell him your name, girl, so we can all move on.”
Dread thickened my blood. Why did that sound so ominous? Shouldn’t he be happy that everything I’d said was real? Kill no longer had to live with the guilt of thinking he’d murdered me. He could be happy!
“Tell him,” Grasshopper prompted.
I couldn’t stop looking at Kill. His green eyes were icy and full of mistrust. “Well? I’m here against my fucking wishes. Tell me, so I can leave and put this nightmare behind me.”
Nightmares. Dreams. I’d found him in my dreams and awoken to him in my nightmares. Would there be a place for us in real life?