Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 167204 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 836(@200wpm)___ 669(@250wpm)___ 557(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 167204 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 836(@200wpm)___ 669(@250wpm)___ 557(@300wpm)
And what are the odds I would actually meet a masked man who’s willing to kill for me?
I’d say the odds were pretty slim, and it seems ungrateful to look the gift horse in the mouth.
So instead of being the magnanimous good girl who gets walked all over and turns the other cheek one more time in her life, I’ll let my madman grant the dying wish of the little girl I laid to rest a long time ago.
I’ll let him avenge me.
And then I’ll thank him for it.
Chapter Thirty-seven
Killian
Brynn and I go to bed a little early tonight.
I wasn’t planning to fuck her after the story she told me earlier. Just didn’t feel right.
But to my surprise, she’s the one to initiate. She curls close and starts kissing my neck. Her tits press against my chest, and she hooks a leg around mine to pull our bodies even closer. Her touch is as soft and tempting as her lips when she kisses me, and there’s an added something special there tonight. Something adoring and vulnerable. Something grateful. Every stroke, every smile is infused with trust I don’t deserve, and when my cock turns to stone, she slides her soft hand down to caress it and coax me closer.
And hell, I’m not that noble.
So I make her come a couple of times and fill that sweet pussy full of cum, and then my perfect girl curls up in my arms, her dark hair spread across my pillow, and falls asleep like an angel.
I’m awake a lot longer, plotting out all the carnage I want to inflict upon her family. I’ll only kill the pervert who touched her, but I want to fuck with her mom and sister, too, and I need to figure out how best to do it.
As vehemently as she made me dislike them with that one single story, I enjoy thinking about it.
But eventually, I fall asleep.
I don’t know what wakes me.
I’m not the lightest sleeper, so the simple act of a phone lighting up in the dark definitely shouldn’t do it, but when my eyes open, that’s the only thing that feels off in the room. Brynn is still sleeping soundly curled up against me, and the bedroom door is closed so none of the “shadow murderers” Brynn is convinced spawn in the next room over if a bedroom door is left open while people sleep have snuck in to kill us. There’s no movement in the room, no indication we’re not alone in it.
The room goes dark, and I glance over at my nightstand, careful not to move too much since I don’t want to wake Brynn up.
Don’t look.
I don’t know where that instinct comes from, but dread builds up inside me real fucking quick.
Don’t look.
But I have to now.
It’s not my problem, but Dare is settling a score of his own tonight and someone could be reaching out because something went wrong. I don’t relish the thought of leaving Brynn alone in this bed to sneak out and help them with whatever shit they’ve stepped in, but I guess I will.
I reach for the phone, but I’m watching Brynn to make sure she stays asleep.
She does.
So I check the phone, and then I kinda wish I hadn’t.
Luckily, I don’t have to swipe open the message to check it since it’s just one line, so I don’t have to answer right now and she’ll just assume I’m sleeping, but that one line makes me uneasy.
It’s Sloane. I need to talk to you.
She was helping them out tonight, so it’s not outside the realm of possibility this could still be about that, but since I haven’t heard from the guys, I kinda doubt it.
I put the phone down on my stomach and reach over to open my bedside drawer so I can check my burner.
Nope, nothing from the guys.
This message isn’t from Sloane’s phone, though, so that’s weird. I didn’t give her a burner, and I don’t see why anyone else would have.
Unless it’s Dare’s burner and something went so wrong, he’s not able to call me himself.
Fuck.
Rather than text her back, I text Hex. “Hey, was everything all right earlier?”
I wait a minute for him to answer, but he doesn’t.
I wait another minute, and finally my phone lights up.
But it’s not Hex.
It’s Sloane on her phone now. “Are you awake?”
She wants to talk now?
No way I’m answering that one.
That feeling of uneasiness grows and I look over at Brynn, fast asleep.
It’s a fleeting impulse, one I know I could never act on, but for just a second, I imagine waking her up, grabbing a bag and telling her to fill it with everything she needs, then grabbing Toast and getting the hell out of here.
Out of Boston.
Out of Massachusetts.
Go somewhere, anywhere, where none of the bullshit can touch us.