Total pages in book: 217
Estimated words: 207224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1036(@200wpm)___ 829(@250wpm)___ 691(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 207224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1036(@200wpm)___ 829(@250wpm)___ 691(@300wpm)
I take the stairs and walk the corridor to our room, entering and finding it empty. I inhale, gathering patience, stepping back into the corridor and looking toward the endless doors to various rooms, all rooms taken up by various guests. “Hotel Casa Black,” I mutter, going to the first and swinging the door open. No Rose. The next. No Rose. I barge into James and Beau’s room carelessly, my patience gone, along with my memory, it seems. I see Beau curled up in bed, Rose spooning her from behind, cuddling her.
Fuck.
I swallow down my intended bellow of her name and meet her blue eyes, seeing a sadness for her friend so potent, it crushes me. Truly crushes me. I’m plain fucking raging. Beau is plain fucking devastated. Two wildly different emotions. They took my father from his resting place to push me into action. It’s low, but taking Beau’s mother to push James into action? That’s just plain fucking cruel, and they will pay for it.
I enter and close the door quietly, unable to reprimand Rose for not being in our room resting like she should be. Walking over to the bed, I crouch down in front of Beau. Her glassy eyes look straight through me. Wisps of her blonde hair are stuck to her cheeks, her lips dry, her usually peachy cream skin sallow. Empty. Fuck me, hasn’t this woman been through enough? Haven’t we all?
I reach for her face and stroke across her skin, dropping to my knees and wrapping my big hand around one of Rose’s that’s clenching onto one of Beau’s. “We’ll get her back for you, Beau, I swear,” I whisper, dipping and kissing her cheek. “Are you hearing me?”
She doesn’t even blink. I can’t even be sure she’s heard my vow. I have my own personal drive, but seeing Beau like this, the hardy former cop, the fierce warrior, so fucking hollow, is driving me harder. I heard of the darkness she was immersed in when she met James. I’ve seen glimmers of it creeping back into her, but she’s always fought it with everything she has. Now? She’s a shell.
I hear the door open behind me, and I look back, seeing James on the threshold. I can’t comprehend how he’s feeling seeing her like this, and I wince at the thought of seeing Rose’s eyes so completely dead. We’ve had our moments over the years, yes, but Beau truly looks like she has departed from this world, despite still breathing.
I stand as Rose starts to unwrap herself from Beau, climbing up off the bed. I take her hand and lead her out, leaving James and Beau alone.
“Fuck,” I breathe as I walk us to our room, running a hand through my hair. I get us inside, close the door, and immediately pick Rose up, ignoring the returned pain on my chest, carrying her to the bed and laying her down. I just need to cuddle her. Be close to her. I can’t imagine feeling as helpless as James does right now, and I hope I never do. Loving Rose has made me weak and vulnerable. Something I swore I’d never be.
“I hate you,” I whisper, feeling her hands all over my back, stroking me everywhere. “I hate you so fucking much. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Rose.” I lift my face. She’s crying. “Don’t cry, baby,” I say softly, wiping away her tears. “It doesn’t suit you.” These tears aren’t for her. For us. These are for her friend, but it hurts me no less. “She’ll be okay,” I say, sure of it. We’re all here for her. “We will find her mum, Rose, I promise.” I wince to myself. There doesn’t sound like there’s much to find.
She smiles through her sadness and strokes my rough cheek, and I nuzzle into her touch. “I know you will,” she says resolutely. “And your pops.”
I nod, swallowing, needing this moment, so I force the rising anger back. “God, how I wish I could be inside you right now.” I need it. Need her. Need to stabilize and reconnect. Remind myself of what I have to fight for. But I can’t. Take it easy, Doc said. Don’t stress out. She didn’t have nearly enough bedrest. I bury my face in her neck and lick her, my tongue not getting the message that sex is off the menu for now.
She moans, doing me no favors, and yet I continue licking, biting, sucking at her flesh. Another moan, and I feel blood rushing to where it should not be rushing. But, fuck, can I stop? I lift my hips, giving my growing cock some space, but . . . my jeans.
“Rose,” I growl, moving my mouth across her cheek to her lips. “Stop me,” I order. “Before I go too far.”