Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 51713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
Her hazel eyes peer back with more concern than I anticipated, more fear, like it’ll kill her to go back to what used to be our home, our haven, the place of nearly all our firsts. “Cill, please,” she begs me in a whisper, and it’s my undoing.
With one hand wrapping under her thigh and the other on her waist, I lift her up in a swift movement and brace her back against the wall, capturing her lips and reminding her who she belongs to. Even if neither of us will say it out loud. I love her. I need her.
And this hell the club put her through? Seeing her write that she hated the club and feeling deep down that I do too? … I can’t fucking stand it.
It only takes my lips on hers for my little hellcat to mold her lips to mine. To part the seam of them and grant me entry. Although I’m hard with my kiss at first, my touch softens, her body heats and soft moans pour from her like they used to.
It’s only once I’m satisfied she won’t run that I pull back and stare into the haze of emotions in her gorgeous eyes.
“The club had no right to leave you.” All I keep thinking today, the one thought that won’t stop demanding to be heard, is that she would have stayed with me if only they did what the club stands for. If only they’d protected her. She was more mine than she was her father’s daughter. She was supposed to be my wife, my everything. “They should have stayed by you until I was out.”
A concoction of emotion swirls in her green and gold eyes that I can’t place. “I don’t know that that’s true.”
“I do.” There’s not a second of hesitation. “They knew what you meant to me. Every single one of them.” They knew I was going to propose. They all fucking knew. “And that’s enough. Do you hear me?”
She nods, swallowing thickly as I slowly lower her to stand on her own, her back still against the old brick wall of the club.
“They need to accept you because you’re mine,” I tell her firmly and the lack of her denying that is what fuels me to say and do whatever the fuck I have to in order to make this right.
“I am,” she murmurs, her gaze still captured in mine.
This time when I gather her hand in mine, she holds it back, walking beside me as I push open the door and lead the way past the garage and upstairs to the rec room.
“Cillian?” my uncle calls out when he first sees me. Standing by the pool table, a whiskey glass in hand, there’s not a billiard ball in sight along with some kind of plans laid out on the table. He’s quick to gather them, as if they’re not for me to see. “You’re early,” he adds, his voice dropping and his gaze lowering to land on Kat. His nondescript tee and worn jeans are at odds with how I remember this place. It feels empty and cold.
“And you brought company,” he states and his voice drops even lower.
Heat blazes across my skin. “Yeah, church isn’t for another hour,” Finn calls out from the other side of the room. Unlike my uncle, Finn’s got his leathers on as well as a pair of reading glasses and a yellow legal pad.
“We’re just going over the numbers, something’s off,” Finn adds, his Irish accent thick, and then sets the pad down on the kitchen counter. It’s all the same in this place. The same but older; less thrilling, less wanting.
Is that what they’re doing? The fucking accounting?
“Where is everyone?” I call out. It’s Sunday so the garage is closed, but this place … it was never empty. There was always someone here. Footsteps echo down from the stairwell to my right in the narrow hall, the one that leads to the third floor. They’re fast paced and light, and it doesn’t take long for Reed to come into view.
His expression not at all surprised, and very much carrying the guilt of what my last message said to him.
“You should probably wait for church to start …” My uncle’s voice gathers my attention, “… so you can find your place.”
My teeth grind as I take a step forward, Kat protesting slightly as I pull her in behind me.
“You get my message?” I question Reed, who stalks in after us, carefully following.
“Yeah, I got it,” he answers, his glance moving between myself and Kat. They share a look and it’s one I don’t fucking like.
“Maybe we should go?” Kat asks as I walk to the right of the hall. To the left is the pool table, the television and a sofa which is new and takes up the depth of the room. To the right is the kitchen and before that, the dinner table.