The Found (Live and Let Live #3) Read Online Stella Craig

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Live and Let Live Series by Stella Craig

Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97258 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)

She walked away to her heart’s detriment. He found out what he was missing…too late.

Lola and Cole, with the help of a few friends, survived the angry ministrations of a crazed despot. But now, instead of celebrating their victory in this torn-up world, they’re as lost as two people can be.
Lola wants Cole to find the happiness robbed of him. Cole wants what Lola provides – a home. Their stubbornness drove them apart but when Lola faces being alone at the end of the world, she turns back to the only family she knows.
Reunited with the ones she loves; she’s prepared to be what Cole needs her to be. But she’s not ready for the group which turns out to be far more sinister than Shepherd could ever be. Fighting for their lives, Lola and Cole must overcome the evil deeds of man or risk a fate worse than death or eternal zombiehood at that.
Will Lola and Cole come together only to be ripped apart?




The bitter stench burns my nostrils, but the acrid smell is the least of my worries.


I’ve searched every fucking crevice of this place for her. Finally, that fucker Enzo found out where she was, but the how remains a lingering question in my mind.

For now, though, I set it aside because Lola’s tiny form is curled on the concrete floor. She’s so quiet and still.

Dropping to my knees, I hesitate, afraid to touch her. It’s pitch black in here. The hole. A fucking concrete room with no windows.

The only light shines from the hall, casting Lola in shadow.

The source of the smell becomes clear when I hover over her. With nowhere to use the bathroom, she was forced to go in here. That is until she didn’t have the energy to move.

What if I’m too late? What if she’s dead?

The pulse in my throat beats so rapidly I can feel it in my neck, and biting back a scream, I bow my head. What have I done?

Why did I let her out of my sight? How could I let her get lost?

“Sweetheart,” I breathe, and she says in the tiniest voice I’ve ever heard, “Cole?”

I wake with a start, staring blindly at the wall before I suck in a breath and press my hand against my aching chest.

The sound of her saying my name haunts me in my fucking dreams. What would have happened if I hadn’t found her?

I wouldn’t be here now. That’s for sure.

When Lola disappeared, I lost my mind. Knowing that megalo-fucking-maniac could’ve done anything to her while I played house with Marie sent me to a place that I thought I might never emerge from.

I left her vulnerable, and it ate at my soul until I didn’t care about Shepherd and his madness because if Lola was gone, I might as well be too.

Ironic, considering the circumstances today. The familiar burn of loathing coats my skin, and I laugh, but the bitter sound curls in my throat.

I was prepared to storm Shepherd’s fucking castle to find her, and when Marie tried to comfort me, I pushed her off and away. My skin crawled at her touch because, once again, I did the unthinkable. And Lola paid the price.

I suspect Enzo finally came forward because he knew I was at my wit’s end, and when he said he knew where she was, I punched him in the face.

He fought me on taking her out straight away, and he won, but I only waited a few hours before I came back and took her anyway. She was so skinny and frail, speaking in gibberish, and hot to the touch. I laid with her that first night while fluids trickled into her body via an IV.

She tossed and turned, moaned, and cried. Sometimes she said my name while I held her and soothed her and cried at how much pain she was in.

That’s when I made the fatal mistake of giving in. I couldn’t keep up the charade anymore. I couldn’t sit and watch her hurt because of me. So, I gave her just enough to hope, but it wasn’t enough, and we clashed anyway.

I finally found her again, and then I was selfish and threw it all away. I should’ve let her go so she could live. Instead, I led that fucker Shepherd right back to her, and he did what he did best; he made her disappear.

In my defense, that last day, when she wouldn’t meet my eyes, I panicked and sat next to her for the sermon.

Her face was pale with dark circles under her eyes, and her delicate hands were clenched in her lap. I knew all the way to my bones something was wrong, but she wouldn’t look at me, and then Shepherd had his fucking tirade.