Total pages in book: 218
Estimated words: 215412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1077(@200wpm)___ 862(@250wpm)___ 718(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 215412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1077(@200wpm)___ 862(@250wpm)___ 718(@300wpm)
Jag seethes, his nails buried in Wolf’s forearm, but Wolf doesn’t lift that threatening ember. One twitch and Jag will lose his eyesight.
Gone is Wolf’s playful smirk. In its place gleams something far colder, a face that doesn’t belong in civilization.
“If you hurt her again, I’ll break things that aren’t meant to break.” He bares his teeth, his features devoid of humanity.
He straddles Jag’s chest as Jag widens unblinking eyes. If he blinks, his lashes will surely catch fire.
Jag might be stronger, but holy fuck, Wolf is ruthless. He’s a maniac that Jag doesn’t know how to fight.
The rifle lies beside them, and I grab it, removing the magazine, emptying the chamber, and tossing it out of reach. Since he knows I won’t shoot him, no sense waving it around like a useless threat.
Jag manages to free an arm and reaches for the knife in his boot.
But Wolf is faster. He grabs Jag’s wrist and slams it against the pavement, the force so vicious I hear the bones crack.
Jag grunts, his head jerking back in pain.
“I warned you.” Wolf clucks his tongue, returning the cigarette to Jag’s eye. “You should’ve run when you had the chance.”
For a horrifying moment, I think he intends to kill Jag. The way his fingers flex around Jag’s throat, the smoke curling from that cig with pure, deadly intent, he’s seconds away from finishing this.
I don’t know if I want to stop him.
Jag has taken everything from me. He’s hunted me, bullied me, stolen everyone I cared about, and twisted my life until every choice became a knot he tightened around my throat.
But as I watch Wolf strangle him, a different fear creeps up my spine.
Wolf isn’t doing this for revenge.
He’s doing it because this is who he is.
Jag’s face turns red, but Wolf doesn’t relent, his arm straining, making Jag suffer. When I take a step forward, Wolf finally relaxes his grip just enough for Jag to suck air.
“Say the word, Buttercup.” Wolf lifts heartless eyes to mine. “Mercy or death?”
“Mercy.”
“Remember this, Stepbro. She’s far more forgiving than I am.” Wolf rolls to his feet and shifts closer to me. “Don’t make me regret letting you keep that pretty eyeball.”
Jag slowly pushes himself up, clutching his broken wrist. Murder simmers in his eyes. His lips curl back, and a pained breath hisses past his teeth.
“You think this is over? You just made the biggest mistake of your life, freak.”
Wolf doesn’t react. Not outwardly. But the tension crackles between them, an unspoken war waging in the silence. Two predators staring each other down, locked in a standoff.
“You work for my shop?” Jag scoops up the rifle. “Guess what happens when you try to kill your boss.”
“You’re still breathing.” A twitch bounces in the corner of Wolf’s eye. “I went easy on you.”
“Consider yourself unemployed.” He turns to me with vitriol in his tone. “He isn’t your hero, Dove. He’s just another hungry wolf in the dark. Wolves don’t save. They hunt.”
“Walk away, Jag.” My blood runs cold. “Before I change my mind.”
I only need to say the word, and Wolf will kill him. I have no doubt.
Nodding slowly, Jag takes a measured step backward.
“Enjoy your victory. It won’t last.” He pivots and strolls into the shadows, leaving behind the promise of retribution.
Wolf remains unmoving, watching his retreat. Only when Jag fully disappears does he roll his shoulders and shake off the fight.
“Told you.” He brushes blood off his knuckles and meets my eyes. “You need me.”
I run.
Where to? Hell if I know. This town’s too small to outrun that fight.
Too small to outrun Wolf.
I don’t trust him. He’s ruthless and unpredictable. A savage beneath the lazy grin.
But he saved me.
And he lost his job in the process.
That complicates things.
Salty ocean air clings to my skin, mixing with a sheen of moisture. Am I sweating?
No, wait. It’s drizzling.
Within minutes, a whispering mist slicks the streets in shimmering reflections of amber and blue, curling around the buildings like smoke.
The world feels hushed, blurred at the edges, and Jag is out there. Watching. Waiting. The thought unsettles me, careening my heart against my ribs.
He won’t let this go. Not after tonight.
My stomach twists with hunger, but I can’t eat until I find a job.
Should be easy. Every town has a mechanic shop.
Dragging my ruined dress through puddles, I jog past a bank, church, school, bakery, another church, multiple gift shops, chiropractor’s office, another bank, another church, on and on until…
There!
The sign above the garage is faded, the letters curling from years of rain and wind. The place is locked up, the bay doors drawn shut.
Around back, there’s a patch of grass, dry beneath an awning and hidden from the streetlights. A private place to bunker down for the night.
But first, I need out of this wet dress.
As I move toward the awning, the crunch of boots behind me sends a fresh spike of irritation up my spine. I don’t have to look to know it’s him.