Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 107118 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107118 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
“What does it feel like?” I tensed when Hush spoke after several quiet moments of reflection. His deep voice was racked with pain, the hoarse timbre causing my soul to cry out for the agony he was in.
I looked him in the eyes and wondered, for the millionth time, what haunted him so much. What it was that caused the marks on his skin. What earned him his road name. And what he couldn’t let go of to allow him to be happy.
I knew my eyes were glistening. My vision blurred enough to tell me that. I reached down and held both of my guys’ hands. Cowboy ran his thumb over the back of my hand. Hush was clutching onto me for dear life. Such a contrast, I thought. “Happy.” I knew it wasn’t the most profound thing that had ever come out of my mouth. But there was no other word. “Happy,” I repeated and, gazing at the ceiling, I brought Hush’s hand to my lips and kissed it gently.
“What did you find? In Mexico . . .” Cowboy’s question invaded that newly found happiness in a second. He nuzzled into my shoulder and pressed a single kiss on it. “To make you want to leave him? What did you find?”
I closed my eyes, and like it had only happened yesterday, I was instantly there. “Girls.” I shook my head, trying to erase their gaunt, blank faces from my mind. “Lots and lots of lost, tragic girls . . .”
“Maria?” I ran through the house, my feet tapping on the marble floors, to find the housekeeper. The sun was setting and Juan still hadn’t come home. I had been waiting for him. We had a date planned for tonight. I adjusted my bra strap under his shirt that I was wearing over my jean shorts. It still smelled like him. I’d been wearing it all day. I loved it.
“Sia?” I turned to see Maria coming through the hallway.
“Do you know where Juan is?”
She shook her head. “He is a busy man, señorita. He will be home when he is home.”
I pushed a breath out of my mouth. I was now officially sick of the way all Juan’s staff talked down to me. I was seventeen. Juan was twenty-five. I knew most of them thought I was too young to be with him. Hell, I’d heard most of them mutter it in Spanish, thinking I couldn’t understand. I wasn’t the most proficient in Spanish, but I knew enough to understand what they said behind my back. And the not-so-subtle ones called me Lolita. I wouldn’t even need to know a scrap of Spanish to get that damn reference.
I went back to the bedroom and waited for another hour. Sick and tired of waiting for Juan, I threw on my flip-flops and snuck out the front door. Just as I rounded the corner, I saw one of his men—Pablo—getting into the covered Jeep. Deciding in a split second that I could hitch a ride with him, I slithered into the back of the Jeep. I smiled as it roared out of the drive.
I knew Juan worked close by. I had never been to his office. He liked to keep his work life and his private life separate. I had been at his home for two months now. And not once had I been to his work. I got it. My poppa had never let me go to the club. Hell, Ky never even talked about the club when he came to see me. I was used to men being secretive.
But standing me up for the third time this month had made me snap.
About twenty minutes had passed when the Jeep came to a stop. I crouched low, making sure I was hidden by the khaki cloth of the Jeep. I heard talking. What sounded like a barrier being raised a few seconds later. The Jeep drove on only a couple of miles more before we stopped and the engine was turned off.
Pablo left the Jeep. I waited until there were no voices nearby and snuck out of the back. I looked around. I’d expected to find offices. What greeted me was a vast amount of land, agricultural land, which housed several buildings. A larger building sat at the end of a long drive. Where the other barn-like buildings were one story, the one at the end was two. I smiled, knowing that’s exactly where Juan would be.
I kept to the shadowy outskirts of the buildings, trying to keep out of sight as I made my way to where I thought Juan would be. There were men with guns patrolling the main drive. I had no idea why. Juan told me he was a trader. From what I knew that all happened via phone and computers.