Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Sure, she could find her own way through the hospital, but he couldn’t resist settling his palm on the small of her back and guiding her to the crowded room that smelled like antiseptic, puke, and fear. When they arrived, a tall man who looked like an older version of Cutter and a tiny woman who shared his eyes headed straight for Brea.
She bolted for the woman. “Mama Sweeney!”
“Oh, baby girl…” The older woman hugged her fiercely. “We’re here for you and your daddy. Try not to fret.”
“That means the world to me.” Brea turned to the other man. “Thanks for coming, too, Cage.”
One-Mile hung back, gritting his teeth as the other man folded her into his big arms.
“Of course,” Cage assured. “I don’t have to be back in Dallas and on duty until midnight. I’m sure my little brother will turn up long before then.”
“Most likely.” Brea’s stilted smile didn’t quite mask her worry.
“I left him a voicemail on our way over. But you know Cutter isn’t the sort to disappear all night without a word. Of my two boys, he’s the good one,” Sweeney teased as she elbowed her older son.
Cage rolled his eyes. “You only think that because he’s better at fooling you.”
Brea’s boyfriend had been out all night? And his family wasn’t even trying to reassure her that Cutter hadn’t danced the mattress tango with another woman?
Maybe they thought he was working. One-Mile knew better.
“Hush,” Sweeney scolded Cage before she settled Brea into the nearest chair. “Honey, sit down before you fall down and tell us the latest from the doctor.”
Brea did, looking alarmingly pale by the time she glanced his way. “Did I forget anything?”
“No.”
Cage zipped a cautious stare his way. “We haven’t met.”
“Sorry.” Brea jumped to her feet. “Cage, this is one of Cutter’s peers, Pierce Walker.”
“I prefer One-Mile.” He stuck out his hand to Cutter’s older brother.
As they shook hands, nothing on Cage’s face said he’d heard the name before. “Good to meet you. Which branch did you serve?”
“Marines. Sniper.”
Understanding dawned as Cage nodded. “Hence the nickname. Hell of a kill shot, man.”
He’d rather not talk about it with Brea listening. “What do you do?”
“I’m a cop in Dallas.”
It fit. Cage had that sharp, gritty edge he never saw on a salesman or an accountant. “Glad you could come before you have to get back for your shift.”
“Always. She’s like my sister.” Cage stared him down. “You a friend of Cutter’s?”
He and Bryant would become pals on the twelfth of never as hell was freezing over. “We just work together.”
Cage’s face closed up. Obviously, he’d read between the lines.
Brea tugged on Cage’s sleeve. “You don’t have any idea where Cutter is?”
“I don’t. He dropped you home after the party, and we went out for a beer. I left the bar when they shouted last call. He stayed to, um…talk to some folks.”
Folks who were female, no doubt. That lying motherfucker was covering his brother’s ass. Was Brea too trusting to believe her boyfriend was cheating? One-Mile wanted to strangle Cutter. If Brea ever gave him a chance, he wouldn’t dishonor her like that.
“I hope he’s not hung over. I got concerned when he didn’t show up for church this morning. I’d planned to go by his apartment after my errand, but then Jennifer Collins called…”
Cage slid into the seat beside her and gave her hand a squeeze. “He’ll turn up.”
Yeah, hopefully not smelling like skank. Oh, he’d love Cutter to do something stupid enough to prompt Brea to sever their relationship, but she didn’t need the stress of finding out her boyfriend was a two-timing douche today.
She squeezed Cage’s hand in return. “I know.”
“Brea,” a familiar deep voice called from the sliding double doors.
Speak of the devil…
As Cutter strode toward them, heads turned. Cage and Mama Sweeney looked relieved to see him.
Brea stood. “You made it.”
“As soon as I got Mama’s message.” When Cutter reached her, he enfolded her in his arms, lifting her off the floor and against his body while she buried her face in his neck with a sob. “I saw you’d called. Why didn’t you leave a message?”
“You might have been busy, and I didn’t want to be a bother.”
Was she kidding? She should expect her man to drop anything—everything—when she needed him. He sure as hell would if Brea belonged to him. Had Cutter given her a reason to think he’d put her last?
“Bre-bee, you’re never a bother.” He set her on her feet and cupped her face. “I’m always here for you. I always will be.”
She gave him a shaky nod, rife with thanks.
That was it? She wasn’t going to ask the bastard where he’d been all night and why he hadn’t answered the phone until three o’clock in the afternoon?
No one else seemed to think it was odd, either. Sweeney hugged her son. Cage gave his brother a shoulder bump. Then they updated him about her dad’s condition.