Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 128356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Jesus fuck.
Her softness has always been my undoing.
She touches me so gently that I’m ready to murder my entire bloodline for her.
This ailment needs to be studied.
“Preston’s antics are anything but fun,” I grunt out in my usual closed-off tone.
“I heard that.” He pauses his bickering with Dahlia. “And stop being jealous. Doesn’t look good on you, big man.”
Violet vibrates with laughter in my arms.
I lift a brow. “He’s not that funny.”
“I just find it endearing.”
“You find what endearing?”
“The relationship between you guys.” She lifts her hand to my face, then drops it back down, still seeming to think twice about her actions around me. “Even though we come from different worlds, I feel like you guys bonded over harsh circumstances just like Dahlia and I did.”
“Dahlia doesn’t push her luck like that little motherfucker Preston.”
“Heard that, too! Want a fight, big man?”
I’m about to pummel him against the wall, but Violet clenches her fingers in my T-shirt, her manicured nails digging into my muscles. “Please don’t fight.”
My eyes narrow. “That’s what I do, though. Fight. Punch. Kill. You know that. If you have any fantasies about fixing me, it’s better to abandon them.”
Her smile falters a bit. “It’s not that…”
She trails off as Dahlia approaches to interrupt the moment, dragging Violet to the table.
All of them are a damn nuisance tonight.
I’d prefer it be just the two of us watching some TV or talking about school. But no, Violet wanted to invite ‘the important people in our lives’ on this fine Sunday.
Dinner is loud and obnoxious, mostly due to Preston and Dahlia—who refuses to let him have the last say in anything.
My mood is split between being annoyed at all of these people stealing Violet’s attention from me and being apprehensive at Preston’s state.
He seems hyper and cheerful, but he also has a bruise the size of fucking Texas on his side. I saw it earlier when he was changing in the guest room. He said he got it in practice, but no puck would form that kind of bruise.
He’s lying.
Preston never lies to me.
The fact that he did is the reddest flag of all flags.
I need to get to the bottom of this before he does something stupid. He’s been whining more and more about his dad lately, which is bothersome in and of itself because he does dangerous shit to get his dad’s attention.
“This is truly amazing, Violet,” Kane says after sipping the soup.
“Aw, thanks.” She blushes. She fucking blushes at Kane’s remark?
What. The. Fuck?
Kane smiles. “I mean it. I need the recipe.”
“See?” Dahlia says smugly, pausing her nonsensical fight with Preston. “I told you Vi was the best cook ever.”
Kane raises a brow. “I thought I was the best cook ever.”
She keeps her thumb and forefinger slightly apart. “You’re just a teeny-tiny bit behind her.”
“Now, I’m offended.”
Dahlia strokes his cheek, and Violet smiles at the cheesy-as-fuck scene as I stab my fork into the lasagna.
Her gaze slides toward me…expectantly? No, it’s something else.
“What do you think?” she asks in a small voice.
“It’s amazing!” Preston cuts me off before I can even say anything. “I’ll be having dinner here regularly.”
“I’ll cut your throat,” I warn.
“Boo. Who will you bond with over mommy issues once I’m gone?”
I narrow my eyes, and he just grins.
I think I catch a glimpse of Violet studying me intently.
No fucking clue what Preston has been telling her about me, but I often catch her watching me with this sympathetic edge.
And it pisses me off.
I don’t need her to feel sorry for me.
My phone vibrates on the table before I get a chance to read her expression further.
Julian
You’re not here. Father is livid.
Me
Couldn’t care less.
You promised to make it to dinner tonight.
I just said that so he’d shut up.
He says if you don’t make it in the next thirty minutes, he’ll lock you up.
Typical fucking Regis.
Resorting to threats when things don’t go his way is his modus operandi.
He wouldn’t do that during the hockey season and jeopardize my nearly perfect stats that he loves so much.
He would, judging by his expression as I read that text. He said: I’ll also erase that girl you’ve been roaming around lately, not knowing what’s good for you.
You told him about Violet?
I didn’t need to. You seem to forget he’s still the head of the Callahan family, and considering you’re the apple of his eye, he’s bound to survey you.
Apple of his eye, my ass. Julian always says that, probably so I won’t feel bad that he’s Regis’s favorite, but it’s getting tedious and old.
Twenty-eight minutes, Jude, or tonight will be the last night you see Violet breathing.
I stand up, my grip tightening on the phone. “I’m leaving.”
“Whaat?” Preston stands, too. “But I still didn’t beat your ass in all the board games Dakota brought.”
“It’s Dahlia,” she grumbles.
“Sorry. Dallas,” Preston says with a grin.