Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 66997 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66997 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
“What the hell are you talking about?”
He rolls his eyes. “The hush money? Or bribe money? Whatever it was that my dad gave you to testify against me. The longer you stand there acting innocent the more pissed off I am and while I’d rather leave you here the thought of someone else getting to you before I can make you pay actually makes me more pissed, so get in, alright? At least you’re safe for one more night.”
Ten grand. Ten grand. I repeat the word in my head. “Jude, I’m being totally honest right now, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I never took money from your dad.”
“Wow,” He laughs. “First I’m dead and now this. Alright.” He exhales and shakes his head at me. “I think it’s best if we just don’t talk. Get in.”
“I really am grabbing a ride.” I hold up my phone. Especially now that he’s talking about bribe money. “So you won’t be burdened with my lying presence.”
He curses. “No, you’re not, closest car’s going to be a long wait and you have an early class. Get in, I won’t bite.”
“I swear if you say yet—”
“”—I wasn’t going to say anything other than it’s freezing and I still have shit to do tonight, so either get in or wait and get fucking kidnapped, your choice.”
He wouldn’t hurt me.
Would he?
No.
Plus, there are cameras all around the parking lot. It would be stupid. I briefly think about the jail time, really stupid. But why did he go to jail? His dad said he’d get off so what else did he do? Dare I even ask?
“Alright then,” He unlocks the doors and then reaches across the consul and props the door open for me. The movement gives me whiff of his cologne. It’s cedar, warm, spicy. I instantly have regrets as I slump into the seat and am completely swarmed with his presence. I’m drenched in all things Jude Hale, and I hate that my heart beats a little faster while goosebumps rise up all over my body. He’s beautiful, angry, but beautiful. He’s even better looking than he was in high school, his face has matured, his body is bigger, everything about him screams for me to notice him.
I cross my arms and try to keep my racing heart down as rain suddenly pelts the windshield.
Leather rustles as Jude turns his body toward me, slowly he reaches across. I squeeze my eyes shut. Shit is he going to hit me? Strangle me? Kiss me? Why did I get in the stupid car! He tugs something close to my right ear. “Safety first, De-Lilah.”
I open my eyes and nearly choke out a breath. He’s so damn close. I can almost taste him. “Oh, right, the seatbelt.”
He doesn’t buckle it slowly; he takes his time running his hand down the seatbelt and shoving it into the spot and then he grabs the strap and gives it a tug before it rests between my breasts. He’s staring right at my chest before he slowly looks back up at me. “Wouldn’t want you getting hurt.”
“It’s Lilah.” I snap, changing the subject, getting us away from the torturous territory we’re currently in where I lose my mind and throw myself at him over a seatbelt. “I changed it. Delilah felt too..”
He snorts. “On the nose?”
“Sure.” I shudder. “That.”
He’s still close to me. Too damn close.
The air is thick with tension swirling between us, things said, things left unsaid. I don’t even know if I’m breathing anymore. His eyes flicker to my mouth before he pulls back.
The space between us is filled with secrets and lies.
With truths.
With wounds.
I stare straight ahead and will myself to breath quieter but it’s nearly impossible with him that close to me. How does a person breath quietly anyway? Has it ever even happened in that man’s presence?
Jude taps the steering wheel lazily. “You always this jumpy?”
“I’m in a car with a man who somehow keeps appearing everywhere I am and came back from the dead.” I mumble. “You tell me.”
He snorts. “Portland’s not that big and who the hell told you I died.”
“I saw your casket,” I whisper. “Lower into the ground. Closed casket. Family funeral. My dad said there was an accident and I just...” Tears slide down my cheeks. “He said you were gone.”
He sighs. “Gone as in, I had gone to prison Lilah, what day was it?”
“What?
“What day was it.” He repeats. “My supposed funeral?”
“December fifth.” I whisper. “I’ll never forget because it was pouring rain and—”
He bursts out laughing, but it’s without humor, only laced with pain. “I can’t decide if you’re lying again or if you’re just that gullible.” He sighs. “That casket wasn’t mine.”
I sit up straight. “Then whose was it?”
He grips the steering wheel, steel glints in his eyes as he puts the car in drive. “My fucking mom’s.”