Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 120186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
“But it’s not okay. You know me! I could never kill someone.” I don’t know why it’s so important that I get through to him. I only know it is. “You have to believe me! Please.”
“Like I said. I believe what I saw.” He steps away like he’s putting more distance between us, and something inside me shatters. After everything he’s done to me, this hurts the worst. I know better than to break down, though. He’ll only be colder than ever.
Instead, I keep my head as high as I can. I won’t beg him to hold me, even though that’s what I want more than anything in the world. For someone to hold me and comfort me and tell me everything will be all right. To believe me. To tell me they know I’m not a killer. But what if I did do it? I was defending myself. It wouldn’t be seen as a crime, right? For a second, I’m gripped by panic all over again.
“Maybe I should tell the truth. I have bruises on my neck.” I touch my throat and wince even at the tiny bit of pressure. “I was defending myself. People will believe me.”
“It’s too late for that. The scene’s been cleaned up. There’s no evidence—for you or against you.” His words land with a sickening thud.
He’s right. I can’t prove anything now.
There I was, thinking he was my savior, but I think he might have put the nail in my coffin, instead. He knows it, too. That might be the worst part of all.
There’s a look of grim satisfaction on his face when he steps up to usher me to bed. Once I’m tucked into the covers, he leans in and murmurs, “Now, you owe me.”
He lies down on the bed beside me, fully clothed, shoes on, facing me.
“Is that why you did it?” I whisper as a sick feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. “So that I would be indebted to you? So you could use it as leverage against me?” He waits to speak, digesting what I’ve said, playing it back in his mind, realizing how fucked up he is. “Do you even really care?” Tears slip from my eyes and trail down my cheeks. “He was going to rape me, hurt me.”
“I know what he was going to do, Allie,” he snaps almost as if he’s angry that I’m reminding him. “But it didn’t happen, and if he had gotten that far, he would be dead anyway. I’d have put a bullet between his eyes the moment I found out.”
That gives me a glimmer of hope that maybe he cares for me as more than just a possession, but it doesn’t change what he’s done. It doesn’t stop the panic from building.
“I don’t think I can do this,” I whimper.
“Then don’t think about it. Just do what I say. Otherwise, you’re going to be headed to prison for a very long time. Understand?”
I’m too exhausted, both physically and mentally, to do anything but agree. All I can do is look up into the face of the devil and nod. “Yes.”
“Good. Now get some rest.” He tucks the blanket a little higher up to my chin and tugs me against his chest.
At this moment, I’m so grateful to be held that I let out a long sob. He doesn’t care when I get snot all over his coat. He lies beside me until I stop crying. “I can’t stay, sweetheart. I have to leave before Emma gets back.”
When he heads for the door, I start to tremble. The reality of the situation is sinking in deep. “I thought you were different from him.”
Kade stops just before the door, the glow of the hall framing his silhouette. “Than your fuckwit fiancé?”
“Not him. Roman.”
Kade turns to look at me over his shoulder, and there’s no mistaking the guilt flickering in his eyes. He fucking cares. He cares, and he doesn’t want to show it. I latch onto that even as his expression clears to the cold indifference I know so well.
I watch him walk out the door and wrap my arms a little tighter around my middle, holding all my fractured pieces together. Even if I’m afraid, even if I owe Kade in some terrible twisted way, I’m grateful he was here. I just wish I had it in me to ask him to stay, to remind me that everything is going to be okay, even if neither of us really believes it.
Chapter 19
Kade
Ipull up to the usual meeting spot, my headlights flashing over three figures framed by the mountains behind them. Two of the men are smoking cigarettes—the tips glow bright—while the other blows into his cupped hands.
The temperature has plummeted over the last couple of hours, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s started to snow. You can never be too sure about Montana weather. I park my truck and climb out. If we weren’t in the middle of nowhere, a passerby might notice the four of us and do a double take. There’s no reason for a man to be out here dressed in a tuxedo, but that’s what I’m still wearing. I can’t wait to take the damn thing off. I already resent wearing it to begin with.