Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 119184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
I fucking wish it was just that.
No. With her, everything feels like a cotton candy adrenaline rush, and I’m chasing that high.
I couldn’t control the thoughts that flooded me after we fucked either. The ones still knocking around my head even after the drama today.
“You’re sure you want to rush out like this?” she asks, glancing behind me to where Wendy and Mom are still visible in the living room, chatting away.
Mom doesn’t have quite the same fondness for this place I do, but she and Wendy have always been friendly.
“I’m sure. She’s got cider on the brain, and you’d be crazy to delay her.”
“But I should say goodbye.”
I rub the base of her neck softly. “Sass, we should escape while we can. No need to push our luck when we’re ending on a good note.”
“Oh? You don’t think I can handle it?” She fires me an arched glance.
“I think we both have to handle this lie like it’s made of glass. Why risk a slipup and shatter it now?”
My phone buzzes, and I grab it from my pocket.
Luis, checking in to let me know he’s done following up with my nutrition team for the day. They’ll have a new report for me by tonight for our next trial formula.
For a second, I hesitate.
Then I look at Lena again, at the uncertainty on her face, and I wonder if I put it there. Or was it there long before me?
That bitter doubt, caked on her heart, just like the mud, by a man who isn’t nearly as innocent as Silver the horse.
I need dirt on Harry Jay. Start digging, I text.
On it. His reply comes a second later.
There must be something I can do to pry him off Lena’s back. To put her mind more at ease so she knows he’ll never trouble her again.
“We need to play it safe when we’re just starting out. I don’t want to blow it, and I don’t want to make this harder for you,” I tell her, stuffing my phone away.
“For me?” Her expression sobers, though I don’t mention Harry’s name. “It’s really not that bad. Jesus, Brady. I’m already over what happened yesterday—”
“That pretty face says otherwise,” I say gently.
“Brady—”
“Don’t fight me on this, okay? And don’t try to minimize what happened. That savage fuck doesn’t deserve the courtesy.” I haven’t forgotten the haunted look in her eyes when she told me how he’d posted those videos online—the revenge porn—like she was never anything more than a sick joke to him.
My blood boils like steaming tar.
“You’re sweet, but you’re testing my patience. I don’t need you to fight my battles,” she whispers, looking up defiantly.
Those eyes have no end when they catch the light. Prisms of cocoa and amber.
She’s so goddamn beautiful it hurts.
“Think of it as me fighting with you. Shoulder to shoulder, shield to sword. It’s past time you had someone in your corner, Sass. You can fight, but why should you have to do it alone?”
Just when I think she’ll argue back, her shoulders slump.
“Maybe. Just . . . don’t do anything stupid without running it by me first, okay?”
“Understood.”
“Do you still have my address?”
“Yeah.” We climb in the car, and I pull up the history on my dashboard screen. Before taking this on, I did some hunting.
I know more about her than anyone should.
Not the revenge videos, and they wouldn’t have changed my mind. But her address. Her phone number. Her voter registration.
Scary how easy it is for someone with money and connections to strip people naked.
Scarier because if I have her info, then Harry Jay surely has it too. And there’s no damn way I’m letting her face him alone.
It’s not that I don’t think she’s capable—we both know she is.
This is about leveling the playing field.
That’s the last time the bastard thinks he can pick on a defenseless young woman, dragging her back to the hell he caused.
The long drive down the highway is mostly silent, and as we approach Seattle, she fumbles around in her bag for her keys.
“It’s not the nicest place,” she says anxiously. “Nothing like your palace, I mean.”
“I’ve seen it before. You don’t need to apologize. It’s a nice little house.”
“It’s just . . .” Her mouth opens and closes. “Okay.”
“Good. Let’s get you home so you can have a hot shower.”
In ten or fifteen minutes, I’m walking through her front door. I notice her stop in the doorway and how her eyes dart around, making sure there aren’t intruders.
That makes two of us, and not just because of Harry Jay’s shit.
At this point in my life, it’s second nature to be wary. Always watching for cameras, for corporate spies from rival brands after Pruitt Ag. Someone always looking for their next viral story, because I turned my face to scratch my nose and it looked like I was fishing for boogers.