Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
“Of course Vincent did.” I shake my head. No wonder he hadn’t pushed me for more information. That also explains why he slipped into my bed an hour later than usual. He hadn’t been giving me space. He went to do a bit of recon. I don’t know if I should be annoyed or find it sweet.
“This is not going to end well.” I thought maybe Vincent did have a bullshit radar as Sam first tried to suggest and was going to rough him up a bit. This is far worse.
“Well, if he did that to your lip, then he deserves whatever is coming his way.” Sam shrugs. I should have seen the red flag when Sam hadn’t asked me about my lip. I’d been lost in LaLa land thinking about Vincent since I’d left the house.
“It’s not going to change anything.” That’s something I’m learning the hard way. All the small things I’ve done to Blake haven’t made him stop his behavior. Sure, we can dish out karma and payback all we want, but it hasn’t changed Blake. The only thing it’s going to possibly do is get Vincent’s ass into trouble, and that’s the last thing I want.
“He’s so fucking cocky. How does he not see the freight train headed right for him?” Sam smiles, folding his arms over his chest as he watches the field. Vincent says something to Ezra, causing the man’s mouth to form into a wicked smile. I already know what that means.
One of the teenage boys hikes the ball to Blake. The ball barely leaves the kid’s hands and my brother and Vincent pat the boy without hurting him so Ezra has a straight shot at Blake. Blake starts to throw the ball, but Ezra is already in front of him, knocking the ball out of his hands before he slams into him. Blake grunts, stumbling back and landing on his ass.
“It’s touch!” he shouts from the ground.
“Oops,” Ezra mutters, walking back to the other side. Blake scurries to his feet as more people gather to watch the game, realizing one has started.
“You want to play quarterback?” Blake tosses the ball to one of the teenagers.
Sam chuckles under his breath. Blake doesn’t want to be tossed on his ass again. Too bad for him, it’s not going to matter what position he’s going to try to play. No matter what, these men are going to knock the shit out of him. Vincent gave Ezra his hit, and I’m guessing he’s going for the rest.
I’m not wrong either as we watch the game unfold. Vincent and my brother aren’t stupid about it. I thought Vincent might take Blake out with one shot and this whole thing would be over. No, they are drawing this out with small but powerful hits as they pretend to graze him with their shoulder or collide into him.
So much for Vincent not toying with his prey. Or maybe he’s doing this just for me. When he turns to wink at me, I know I’ve hit the nail on the head. They let the kids score a few times, and they do the same.
“That man can move.” Melody comes out of nowhere to stand beside me. She’s right. Vincent might be big, but damn can he move fast for his size. The man is in full control of his body.
“Eyes on my brother.” I bump her shoulder with mine.
“I’m over having eyes on your brother.” She bumps my shoulder right back. “Hey, Sam.” She leans over to give him a smile. He gives her a chin nod, his eyes not leaving the field. “Oh gosh,” Melody says right after one the teenage boys steps back with the ball in his hand, launching it down the field toward Blake.
It lands right in his hands, and Blake takes off toward the end zone to try to score. He doesn’t see Vincent coming. I don’t think any of us did. He’d been holding back how quick he truly was, and he’s going in for his kill shot.
I cringe as Vincent’s body collides hard into Blake’s. Blake is propelled backward a good seven feet. I hear a crack of some kind. The ball flies back into the air. Ezra intercepts it, taking off down the field in the other direction.
Blake is laid out flat on his back on the ground. His hand lifts to cover his face. “So he’s not unconscious. No need to rush over,” Sam says, unmoving as the crowd all gasps. Vincent towers over Blake, staring down at him.
“Emma!” Mayor Finley calls my name. “He’s bleeding!” He points across the field as some of the crowd start to cheer for Ezra as he returns the interception for a touchdown.
“Oh, is he?” I grab my stupid bag to follow after the mayor. Oddly, I notice out of the corner of my eye none of the other local cops rush over.