Total pages in book: 178
Estimated words: 163885 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 819(@200wpm)___ 656(@250wpm)___ 546(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163885 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 819(@200wpm)___ 656(@250wpm)___ 546(@300wpm)
“Are you all right, Seychelle? You were so sick when you left my house,” Doris persisted. “You’ve lost weight. Brandon, she’s lost so much weight.”
Seychelle attempted a smile at the older woman. “Brandon always pointed out how chubby I was. Actually, I believe he used the word fat. Isn’t that what you said on every occasion we met? Fat? He said I needed to lose weight, so I guess something good came out of me being sick, right, Brandon?”
Her voice was very mild, so soft Savage could barely make it out, but just hearing that Campbell called his woman fat made him want to hunt the little bastard down and beat the crap out of him. Seychelle was gorgeous. Perfect. Ass and tits. A woman with real flesh on her. What the fuck did the man want, anyway?
Doris gasped and turned on Brandon, her hand going to her throat. “What a terrible thing to say.”
“She misunderstood, Doris. Seychelle. Seriously, honey, you misunderstood what I was saying to you. You’re a beautiful woman. You are. Right now, you’re pale and you need someone looking after you. I haven’t seen your boyfriend around.”
“He’s her fiancé,” Doris corrected.
Savage liked that distinction being made, and he was very glad that Seychelle didn’t deny it in front of Brandon.
“He’s here at night. He’s been away on business mostly, but Alena brought me soup, and his brothers from the club check in on me now and then,” Seychelle said. Her voice didn’t sound assuring. She sounded monotone. Tired.
Doris reached over and put her hand over Seychelle’s. “Honey, why don’t you come home with me and let me take care of you? You’re always taking care of everyone else.”
“I’ve been sick, but I’m getting better, Doris. I’ve always had a problem getting over things. Poor immune system. It’s genetic. I’m getting stronger, going for walks now. Thank you for the offer, though.” Seychelle sent her another faint smile.
It was a little too vague for Savage’s liking. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and hold her close. She looked far too pale, as if she was fading away.
“I do still tire easily though, Doris. I need to lie down. Thank you for checking on me.”
Savage hated that she was so down. He’d done that.
Brandon cleared his throat. “I’ve been worried about Sahara. Doris tells me you went to see her the day she disappeared. I didn’t even know you two were friends.”
“You didn’t? How strange. I thought Sahara told you everything. I saw her quite often.” Seychelle turned her head again, looking him directly in the eyes. This time her blue eyes weren’t so listless. They were that deep blue, almost mystical. Challenging. Her voice had a soft, musical quality to it.
Savage felt the knots in his stomach tighten. He would be going there every night and he wanted members of Torpedo Ink on her every second. He didn’t like the way Brandon was looking at her. The man liked victims, and he didn’t like women standing up to him. Right at that moment, Seychelle looked very fragile and worn. But her eyes and voice were saying something altogether different from her body. Her look all but told Brandon to fuck off.
“What was her state of mind that day?” Brandon looked as if he was truly concerned. “She’d been very upset, crying often. I was so worried about her. I had even told Doris I was afraid she would harm herself. She’d gone back to cutting herself. She did that years earlier, but I managed to get her to stop.”
“She seemed very happy. She certainly didn’t talk about harming herself. She’d been telling me for weeks that you wanted the house back. She said you needed it for your new girlfriend and she completely understood.” That sweet musical note was building in her voice.
“It was so generous and kind of you to let her stay there rent-free, Brandon,” Doris said.
“Rent-free?” Seychelle echoed. “She paid rent, Doris. Didn’t Brandon tell you? Sahara has her own money. She illustrates children’s books. There is a huge demand for her work. She has a very large bank account and paid for all the repairs on the house and the upkeep of it. I helped her go over all the invoices for tax purposes and sort everything out for her attorneys so everything would be in order for Brandon when she left. The books were right there for you on the kitchen counter, Brandon. The ones pertinent to the house. She had the roof repaired for you, and new plumbing put in. The heating system was upgraded. She retiled the upstairs bathrooms. Everything was paid for and all receipts were copied and left for you.”
Her voice was different now, the notes much more musical and directed toward Doris, countering the mesmerizing effect Brandon’s voice had on the older woman. Savage clenched his teeth. His woman was taking chances. Brandon might not hit women, but he liked to play his games with them. He’d been setting Sahara up, using his voice, trying to see what he could force her to do—how far down he could take her. Was he setting her up to commit suicide? Savage hadn’t realized Sahara had money. Had he been talking her into making him the beneficiary of her money if she died? Had Seychelle just told him she’d helped Sahara change that?