Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
I didn't need to be told twice.
I hauled myself up and out the window, waiting for Vance on the other side.
"Should we do something?" he asked, reaching for the bag he had thrown out ahead of him.
"Let it burn," I decided, reaching for his hand, and hauling ass back into the woods.
Both seeming to sense the urgency of getting as far away as fast as possible, we didn't speak, didn't plan on anything. We just got on our bikes and drove blindly away.
Sirens wailed, but none followed as we got one town away, two, five, over an hour outside of the area.
"We have to stop for the night," Vance told me after we fueled up the bikes again.
"Yeah," I agreed, taking my first real deep breath since before we'd gone into the building.
"I tossed the gloves in this dumpster when I went in to pay," he told me, nodding over toward them. "We will get rid of the garbage at the hotel."
"We need clothes too. And to get rid of these clothes."
"And call your father," he told me, brow raising, daring me to object.
"Okay," I agreed.
"Are we heading back tomorrow? Or do you need time?"
"Me?" I asked, feeling a smile pull at my lips. "I think you're the one who would need time."
"Maybe I would have. If you hadn't told me what they specialized in. Could have taken them down by a thousand cuts my fucking self."
"Is my black eye coming in?" I asked, knowing it was only a matter of time.
His hand reached out, fingers nagging my chin, lifting and turning it to the side to inspect me.
"It's getting there. Has a bit to go still."
"What am I going to tell my mother?" I asked, then felt a hysterical little laugh bubble up inside me.
"What?"
"I just... I haven't thought that in so long. Like I missed curfew or something."
"Think you can count yourself lucky that you have parents like them, Ace. You really lucked out in that department."
I was not prone to displays of affection. Not even before I went away. I always accepted them from those I loved, but I rarely initiated unless someone was upset or something like that.
But I felt myself moving toward Vance, sliding my hands around his side, circling his back, resting my forehead against his chest.
"I'm sorry your parents kinda suck, Vance."
There wasn't a moment of hesitation in Vance's arms going around me. He was someone who hugged pretty readily. I think it was something he did because his parents never showed them any sort of affection, so as the bigger brother, he felt the need to compensate, giving Iggy hugs on bad days or when she had done something he was proud of.
He used to give me one-arm hugs when I showed up somewhere. Casual. Friendly.
This was not a casual or friendly hug.
This was long and tight and perfect.
"It's okay. I get to kind of have yours here and there."
"Think they might have preferred another daughter, but..." I said, smiling into his chest when he slapped my ass.
"What? With the royal pain in the ass you chose to be? They'd welcome a dozen sons."
I was smiling still when I pulled away. Vance's finger traced over my lower lip.
"Missed that smile, Ace."
I was finding I had missed a lot of things about him that I didn't even realize I missed.
"And there it goes," he said, shaking his head, but shrugging it off. "Come on. Let's go find some clothes and a room."
"And food."
"Yep," he agreed, chuckling. "And food. Grilled chicken and steamed sweet potatoes?" he suggested, making me small eye him. "Sicilian pizza and a side of garlic knots?"
"That's more like it," I agreed, hopping onto my bike.
"What happened to you two?" the nosy cashier who had already critiqued every single item we had purchased, making me desperately wish we had gotten a value pack of condoms and a big old tub of lube, asked as she bagged out items.
"Bar fight," I grumbled at her, taking the bags as Vance reached for cash.
"The lady next to us looked at me," Vance went on, shaking his head.
"No one looks at my man."
"She was eighty if she was a day."
"Did I stutter? You look, you pay," I told him, having to press my lips into a firm line when the cashier ducked her head, carefully avoiding any chance she might glance at Vance.
"You're mean," Vance informed me as we walked out, leaning over to sink his teeth into my shoulder.
"Hey, she's the one who had to imply that I was going to get fat if I kept eating Devil Dogs."
"Had it coming, huh?" he asked, then glanced at me from the side of his bike.
"What?"
"Do you get jealous?" he asked.
I wasn't going to pretend I didn't know what he meant. Or that he'd called me his. Or that I had just called him mine.