Total pages in book: 331
Estimated words: 315585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1578(@200wpm)___ 1262(@250wpm)___ 1052(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 315585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1578(@200wpm)___ 1262(@250wpm)___ 1052(@300wpm)
“I wasn’t dead.”
“I didn’t know that,” he snaps, and his body tenses underneath me. Running his hand down his unshaven face, he sighs and relaxes back into the mattress. I scan his stitches, thankful one of the doctors was able to help him. “I buried you, Eve.”
“I wanted to be cremated.” I smile down at him, trying to lighten the mood about a previous conversation we had, but it doesn’t work.
“I begged a God I don’t believe in to bring you back.” His sad eyes stare into mine. “I haven’t done that since I was a child.”
“Well, if He exists, He heard you,” I try to joke again.
He lets out a long breath. “Tomorrow morning, I’m digging up that body and we’re going to get to the bottom of this, because it was you. And you were dead.”
I take his hand and gently place it on my bare chest. “I’m right here.” I know he can feel my heart pounding. “Alive. In this bed with you right now.”
His hand trails up and then runs through my wet hair. “I feel like I’m going to wake up from this dream and you’ll still be gone.” He speaks softly, as if he’s too ashamed to say it out loud.
Tears sting my eyes at his confession. I lean down and press my lips to his, giving him a soft kiss.
His hands find my hair, and he holds it back when I part my lips for him. He deepens the kiss, and I swallow the urge to cry. I can’t imagine what he went through. Or how he felt. But I don’t want him to feel that now. I’m not going anywhere.
I grind my hips on his and he gently pulls on my hair lifting my lips from his. “We can’t,” he breathes.
“I’ll go slow,” I tell him.
“Eve,” he growls when I reach between us and begin to stroke his dick. I didn’t expect him to be hard. He’s too concerned about me after what happened at the motel. But he was on top and had no idea what was happening.
“I’ll control it.” I lick my lips.
“No. You won’t.” He grabs my wrists and removes my hand from his soft dick.
My stomach drops when he gently lifts me up and places me next to him. I lie down while he rolls onto his side to face me. His hand gently brushes my wet hair from my face. “I love you, Eve. More than anything in the world, but I’m not fucking you.”
I gently nod at the rejection. “I…I would if you needed it.”
He sighs heavily. “You almost died again because of me. This has nothing to do with needs. It has to do with your life, and I won’t risk it. Never again.”
EIGHTY-THREE
KASHTON
Click.
I let out the breath in one hard whoosh and grind my teeth when the gun doesn’t go off. “Come on,” I grind out. My right hand now shaking, I squeeze again.
Click.
“Goddammit,” I shout, jumping to my feet.
I catch sight of myself in the mirror on the wall across from me. I’m bruised and cut all over. My eyes are swollen.
I’m to the point that I think I’m delirious. I don’t know how much I’ve slept since I found her at the cathedral. I’ve tried. Trust me. I thought I’d see her in my dreams, so I tried to put myself into an alcohol haze. But she didn’t show. Not how I wanted her to, anyway. All I saw was her lifeless body covered in blood.
At least I no longer cry. I’m pretty sure that’s due to the punches to the face I deserved. My fists are cut and bruised from punching the walls, and I’ve spent more time on my knees screaming for her, as if my begging could bring her back.
It can’t.
I throw the gun at my reflection, and it shatters the mirror, just like the bottles scattered on the floor.
“Seven years of bad luck, Kash.” I hear her voice in my head, and I laugh at the thought.
I’ll be dead by noon. “Those seven years won’t matter, angel,” I say as if she’s here with me.
The urge to pick up the gun to try again is strong. But maybe it’s the universe’s way of telling me I don’t deserve death.
I’ve been taking the enhancements. It was to live a long life with her. What if this is my punishment instead? A long and healthy life all alone with a hole in my heart that nothing or no one can fill.
Everett’s passed out, and I lie next to her in our bed, gently stroking her damp hair while she sleeps.
I’d never admit it to her, but I’m afraid to close my eyes. To miss a second of this—her in my arms. Last time I held her, we were covered in blood, and I begged her not to leave me.