Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 169013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 845(@200wpm)___ 676(@250wpm)___ 563(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 845(@200wpm)___ 676(@250wpm)___ 563(@300wpm)
“That would be a whole lot to unload on you, King.” It was nothing but a soggy tease.
My chest stretched tight, and I splayed my hand over her cheek, my thumb brushing back and forth along the hollow of her eye.
“What, do I look weak to you? You think I can’t handle all that you are?” There I went, doing my best to play it light, too.
A fool’s game since I already carried the weight of the world on my shoulders.
Her expression dimmed, harvest eyes caressing over me like she was trying to memorize me the same way. “You look like the kind of strength that I could get lost in. Someone who could make me let down my guard. Someone I could come to rely on if I’m not careful.”
I saw the rest of what was written there. The truth that the only person she could rely on was herself.
“Would it be so bad to rely on me?”
“For just a little while? This mess requires a whole lot more than a few weeks.” Sadness weaved its way into Brinley’s tone as she repeated the warning I’d already issued.
This was temporary.
Whatever this was had an expiration date.
It was the day I put Kent Ellison six feet underground.
“Though a few more of those orgasms might be nice.” Another joke to deflect, her seductive mouth stretching into a taunt that was riddled with affection.
Affection I could never earn the right for her to feel, but there it was. Potent and disorienting.
“I’d hold it all if I could, but I’m asking you to let me hold this.”
This was what I could. The strength I bore.
Vengeance. Revenge. The drawing of blood.
Wasn’t so sure I’d consider it a gift, but right then, maybe it was.
Her strong brow pinched, and the pad of my thumb went to tracing along that spot, too. Trying to soothe, wishing there was a way to completely take it away.
“I’ve never let anyone go there before.”
“Are you afraid of taking me there?”
She scoffed a small sound. “I’m afraid of everything, Silas.”
Fury clawed through my insides, though I kept it tapped, stored it up for when I could hunt down the motherfucker who’d caused the pain that roiled in her being.
It’d be my honor to flay the skin from his bones.
I wasn’t above torture.
Hell, half the time, I took pleasure in it.
“Who was he?” I didn’t mean to let it come out a command, but that’s exactly what it was.
A flurry of rage skimming beneath the surface of my skin and ushering me toward mayhem. The thirst for retribution rocking my hands.
Brinley flinched, but I knew it wasn’t because she was afraid of me.
She was terrified of being taken back.
Terrified of lowering the walls enough that I could see over them.
Moisture filled her eyes, a hurricane of browns and golds and reds drawing me deep into her storm.
“Silas…” She trembled, and I knew she was getting dragged back.
Terror breaking the cracks that had been made in her façade.
I set both hands on each side of her face, anchoring her to me as I whispered, “I’m right here. You’re not alone.”
THIRTY-FOUR
BRINLEY
TWENTY-ONE YEARS OLD
Brinley sat at the small island in the kitchen. A bleary light hung from overhead, and her temples throbbed as she sorted through the pile of bills that had grown so high they were going to bury her.
Her stomach was in knots as she tried to figure out how the hell she was going to make a dent in them.
She’d been close.
Close to finally catching up.
Paying off the debts that had hung over her head like an anvil.
She and Dereck had lived with their aunt for a year after their mother had passed, but when Dereck had started getting into trouble at school, she’d kicked them out.
Brinley had been seventeen.
Lost.
Grieving.
The hole inside her so big she didn’t know how she hadn’t bled out.
But she’d had to figure it out. Take care of Dereck because there was no one else to do it. Their father had only gone so far as to say they were living with him on paper since she’d literally gotten onto her knees and begged him.
She made it simple enough for him that the paperwork was already filled out so he didn’t have to put in the effort that he couldn’t seem to find the energy for.
She’d scrounged and saved and worked three jobs.
It was never enough. Food in short supply, and the hungrier Dereck got, the further he’d seemed to spiral.
Stealing, fights, and God knew what else.
Brinley had finally found a decent bookkeeping job at an attorney’s office, and it brought in enough to cover rent for a two-bedroom apartment, utilities, and food, that and nursing her mom’s old car along and praying it wouldn’t finally go kaput.
Then Dereck had been arrested, and she’d had to take out a loan to get him out, bartering with one of the attorneys at her office to help them, selling her soul once again to keep the promise she’d made to her mother.