Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 88936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Wells laughed. “You weren’t in love with Oakley when you asked her to marry you?” he accused.
I wasn’t the one who had taken his first love from him; that was his cousin, Wilder. I had dated her years after Wilder and proposed. But I now knew it wasn’t love.
“No, I was young and felt possessive of her.” I left out why. I didn’t need to rub that in his face even if it had been another lifetime ago when he was the one in love with her.
“Because you had her cunt first. Popped that cherry,” Thatcher said as he grinned wickedly over the rim of his glass.
“Where is Capri?” I asked him. “Don’t you need to be standing guard over her like the psychopath you are?”
King snorted behind me.
“You took her virginity?” Wells asked me, sounding surprised.
Was he really asking me this? Who the fuck cared?
I took another drink.
“You want to get under Wilder’s skin? Bring that shit up. He’ll get that feral, enraged look in his eyes, and then he’ll probably go and fuck the hell out of his woman, reminding her who’s fucking it now,” King said with a chuckle.
Wells shook his head. “Damn, I thought for sure she’d lost it before you. God knows I tried like hell to get in it. Probably wouldn’t have cheated on her if she’d just given my horny teenage ass some. Hell, we might be married with kids by now.”
Teller barked out a laugh. “She would have never married you! I was a little boy, and even I could see her panting after Wilder.”
Thatcher walked over and set his empty glass down beside me. He looked from King to me. “You’re right. Need to get back to Capri.”
Our little jockey had him so wound up that he was almost a different man. Almost.
Last week, he’d taken off one of our stable hand’s fingers for touching Capri’s arm on fucking accident. Thankfully, King had walked in on it and convinced Thatcher that Capri would be very upset if he kept it up. Or else he probably would have taken the guy’s whole hand or killed him, slowly slicing the man to pieces. She still had no idea it’d happened.
“Where are the girls you said we’d get tonight?” Teller asked, looking at Wells.
Wells pointed toward King. “Not while he’s here. The ones who have shackled themselves don’t want the bitches around anymore.”
I picked up the bottle of Jack. I could use the distraction myself. “You staying here long, King?” I asked, hearing a slight slur in my voice.
“Nope. I’m leaving,” he replied, then finished his scotch. When he was done, he set it beside Thatcher’s glass. “Enjoy your night, boys.”
I watched him stroll out the door.
Wells looked at me. “You want Fall?” he asked me.
I thought about it for a minute. The stripper was always willing to please me. She had the wrong color hair now though. All the things she could do to me weren’t appealing. I wanted to fuck, but it just wasn’t her face I was thinking about.
“No,” I finally replied. “Not up for it tonight. But Teller would enjoy her.”
Wells sighed. “Don’t do this to me too.”
“Do what?” I asked him, already starting toward the door.
“Get your head up some chick’s ass.”
“Just tired tonight,” I replied.
“Bullshit!” he called out as I left the room.
Taking my phone from my pocket, I pulled up my texts, then remembered I’d never checked Royal’s text from earlier tonight. Seeing her as a job was becoming harder, and my brain wasn’t working that way anymore where she was concerned.
I opened the app that sent me all her texts and calls.
Merce: Please stop ignoring me. I miss you. I fucked up. You know I love you, Royal. Talk to me, baby.
My hand tightened on the phone, and I stopped walking.
I scrolled to the next text; it was him again, only thirty minutes ago. He’d called her, but she hadn’t answered as well.
Merce: If you will talk to me, we can fix this. Us. I’ve had time to think, and I can’t live without you.
Royal hadn’t texted back.
I went back to my texts and found the last one she’d sent me. I almost smiled—until I remembered how our night had ended. I’d wanted to watch the life drain from that motherfucker’s face. He’d called her names, taken the glow from her cheeks. The sadness in her eyes did me in. The driving force to mutilate the man who had caused it was alarming, even to me. I’d never reacted that way before.
I stepped out of bounds tonight. I’m sorry. The things he said to you were cruel, and I was already on edge. Seeing him hit you caused me to snap. I shouldn’t have. I handled it poorly. Please forgive me.
I read over the text one more time before hitting Send. It was a lie. I should have done more than I had, just not in front of her. That was the real reason I was apologizing. He deserved much worse, but she didn’t deserve to see it.