Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104403 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104403 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
After a final frown at Jason, Beth turned for her room, then stopped before stepping away from him. “Lee?” she said as she spun back.
He raised an eyebrow.
“Thank you. If you hadn’t shown up when you did…”
The vulnerability in her voice stabbed his heart. His jaw ticked. Despite giving Beth his word, it would take every ounce of strength he had not to break Jason’s neck the second she walked into her room.
“Babe…”
“I know.” She shook her head. “I shouldn’t think that way. You’re here. I’m safe, and I’m actually excited to go to Tennessee. It’s been way too long. Just… thank you. I know I’m asking something huge of you, keeping this from Copper.”
“Well, maybe just put in a good word for me if your dad ever decides to murder me,” he said.
Her lips twitched. “I can do that. Thank you, Lee.”
“Saint.”
He couldn’t handle hearing his given name falling from that sexy mouth. It made him imagine her saying it for other reasons, in different positions, in a much breathier, pleading tone, and that way lay death.
His literal death.
Her nose wrinkled, and his damn dick twitched. Why did she have to be so damn attractive? “Saint?”
“No one has called me Lee in years.”
“Yeah, but… Saint?”
He shrugged as he winked, needing the lightness as much as she did. “I guess it was opposite day when Thunder gave me the name, seeing as how I’m nowhere near sainthood.”
Beth’s face lit up as she laughed for the first time since he’d set foot in her apartment.
He bit off a groan before she could hear it.
It was going to be a long few days back to Tennessee.
CHAPTER FOUR
IN THE SPAN of half an hour, Beth’s entire life flipped upside down.
When she should have been at Rylee’s birthday party, sipping a margarita and stuffing her face with guacamole, she was standing in a motel room with fresh bruises, a bloodied ex-boyfriend out there somewhere, nursing wounds from a severe beating, and a growly biker setting her bag on the bed farthest from the door.
Panic hovered at the edges of her psyche, waiting for the one second she wasn’t consciously working to keep it at bay. As soon as something distracted her from that goal, the anxiety would slip in, and she’d have a full-blown meltdown in front of Lee—Saint.
That would be fun.
The motel was exactly what she expected from a cheap roadside stop just off the highway. The room boasted an ugly, geometric-patterned rug in murky colors, faded mauve bedspreads over two full-sized beds, and art on the walls that had probably come in bulk from a bargain bin. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was clean enough and, more importantly, discreet. No one here knew her name. No one cared.
Before leaving her apartment, she’d shut herself in the bathroom and stood under the delicious warm spray until the hot water ran out, watching rivulets of water swirl down the drain and telling herself she was washing Jason’s touch off her skin. When she’d finally emerged with her damp hair hanging around her shoulders and her face scrubbed completely free of makeup, Jason was gone. Saint had done God knew what with her ex, and he refused to tell her. All he’d said was that he’d kept his promise and didn’t kill ‘the motherfucker.’
Without foundation, without mascara, without lipstick, wearing only the bruises Jason left, she felt raw, exposed, and weirdly clean and filthy at the same time.
A thick taupe curtain hung in one corner of the large window, giving a stark view of the drab parking lot, but not for long. Saint yanked the curtain shut after depositing her duffel on what she assumed would be her bed for the night. As he blocked the window, the natural light disappeared, leaving the room lit only by a dim nightstand lamp and a soft overhead light that made everything feel smaller and closer.
Too close.
They were going to sleep in the same room. She trusted Saint more than she’d trusted anyone in longer than she wanted to admit, but the idea of being in such close quarters with a large man made the back of her neck prickle. For too long, she’d lived in fight-or-flight mode. Her body hadn’t caught up yet to the fact that Saint wasn’t Jason.
He pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped out a few messages while she tried to figure out what to do next. Her brain bounced around in a hundred directions. Jason on the floor, the anticipated joy on her mom’s face when she returned to Tennessee, Copper’s rage when he inevitably found out about Jason, the feel of Saint’s fingertips coasting over her sore neck.
Do not go there, Beth.
With a sigh, because she seemed to do that every few seconds now, she watched Saint on his phone. Was he contacting her father? Did Copper know Saint would be starting back for Tennessee in the morning with her in tow? Saint had promised he wouldn’t spill her secrets, but they hadn’t discussed what exactly he’d say to her dad or the club in general.