Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 57067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Before my best friend betrayed me.
I grind my teeth, an ache splitting down the middle of my skull. Maybe it’s hypocritical. But there’s a big difference between giving in to lust and planning a hit.
My world feels like it’s burned to the core. All good things razed. More than my face is scarred now.
I stare at the center, wondering if I should just make a move, go in there packing and ready to kill. But without knowing what I’m walking into, it’s too dangerous. Not just for me, but for any innocent in there caught in the crosshairs.
Even sitting in my car is a risk. One of the Family members might spot me. I might’ve missed a guard when I approached the building.
Whatever is in there, it’s the reason my best friend was hired to kill me. It’s the reason several men are now in the dirt. It’s the reason I’m the Beast in more than nickname.
I start my engine. Drive away.
It’s been hours since Julian and Celine left. I told her to go because she’s the only one who can make me feel any better about this. She’s the only one who can shine a light on this expanding darkness.
I don’t want that. Don’t need it. That’s what I tell myself.
It’ll just make me weak.
There’s something else too.
I feel bad about Julian. I hate it. This feeling twisting through me, the word traitor whispered darkly in my mind. I shouldn’t give a damn about him after what he did. But I do. He’s always been there for me. Kept me sane and safe after my parents died.
If Celine comes back, I’m not sure I’ll be able to resist her. I won’t be able to stop myself from feasting on her.
She’s too damn perfect.
I drive through the city, wishing I had a contact to hunt down. Someone to fight, someone to hurt, someone to kill. But I’ve run out of options. I’ve learned nothing useful except that the gambling center is at the heart of it all. Even Rico wouldn’t spill its secrets.
That means it comes from the Don. I think about calling Agent Thomas Keane, the man who’s helped me several times before. Without him, I never would’ve had back-channel access to witness protection for the people I’ve saved.
But I have nothing concrete.
Parking out back, I look at my house, the grimy windows, the dilapidated looking exterior. Just like me, except I’m broken on the inside too.
I’ve never been one for self-pity. Guess there’s a first time for everything.
I go inside. Stop the moment I’m through the door. Something’s wrong… it’s not anything specific, more like a shift in the air, my subconscious alerting me to something my conscious mind isn’t fully aware of.
I take out my gun and stalk through the house, instincts alert, ready, hungry even. If they’ve finally found me and chosen today of all days to hit me, they’re in for a world of hurt.
At the bottom of the stairs, I pause. A floorboard creaks upstairs.
I move silently, gun ready. Head tilted to listen for the smallest change in the sound.
It’s coming from Celine’s room…
The guest room, I correct myself. Not her room.
She screams when she sees me holding the gun, throwing her hands up. “Damian – it’s me!”
“What are you doing back here?” I growl, lowering the gun.
She flinches, looking wounded. And I feel like an ass. “Hello to you too,” she says. “What does it look like? I’m getting my stuff.”
Her suitcase is open on the bed.
“Does Julian know you’re here?”
She chews her lip guiltily. “When we got to his apartment, he drank himself into a stupor.”
“How did you even get in here?”
Another guilty look. “On the way out, I swiped the spare key from the bowl. Are you going to put that thing down?”
I place the gun on the dresser. Celine has changed into a pair of torn jeans and a form-hugging sweater. We only had sex for the first time around seven hours ago, but my body aches just looking at her.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” she murmurs, sitting on the bed.
I lean against the wall. As far from her as I can get without leaving the room. My body aches for her closeness, her comfort.
“How are you doing?” she murmurs.
“Great,” I grunt.
“Don’t close up on me,” she says.
“Closing up is the only way I’m going to be able to deal with this, Celine.”
“No more nicknames?”
I grit my teeth. My jaw throbs. “We let it go too far. You know we did.”
She stands and walks toward me. The closer she gets, the flimsier my defenses feel.
“I know,” she whispers. “But I still want to check if you’re okay.”
“Okay,” I repeat, shaking my head. “Not sure what that means anymore. If I’m ever going to be ‘okay’ again.” I sigh. “But dammit, it doesn’t matter. You don’t need to listen to me whine.”