Destroyed (Ruined #3) Read Online T.O. Smith

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors: Series: Ruined Series by T.O. Smith
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Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 46500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 233(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
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My door burst open, and I grabbed my gun, pointing it at Joey and Whiler when they burst in, their guns drawn as well, both of them looking like Jessie’s scream had just dragged them out of bed.

Jessie was sobbing in my arms, her arms twined around me, her entire body trembling. I waved them away and set my gun back down, laying back down with my girl in my arms, holding her tightly, trying to ease her tremors.

Her scream was still echoing in my brain, and I knew it wasn’t a sound I was going to be forgetting anytime soon.

That sound had shaken me to my fucking core.

That wasn’t the sound of a woman who had been injured. That scream was the sound of a woman who had just lost the most important person in the world to her. It was a sound of pure, emotional agony.

Once I had calmed her down some, I slipped out of bed. My poor girl reached for me, her bottom lip trembling, breaking my fucking heart. I reached down and helped her up from the bed. If she wanted me to keep her with me, then that was what I would fucking do.

Once she was on her feet, I silently gripped the back of her head, my other hand resting on her hip as I pressed my lips to her forehead, waiting until her trembling ceased before I released her.

“Come on,” I coaxed, leading her out of the room. No one else was up, thank God. Jessie wasn’t wearing any pants, but I didn’t want to waste time putting pants on her and risk her breaking down again. I needed to get her nerves calmed down so I could hopefully get her to tell me what in the hell she’d been dreaming about.

I placed her hand on my chest, right above the steady beat of my heart before I began to pour her a shot of the strongest whiskey we had. I knew it would burn going down her throat warm and straight, but it would help her nerves settle, too.

I put the small glass to her lips and gripping her hair, I tipped her head back, allowing the liquid to flow down her throat. She swallowed, her face scrunching up in distaste. She coughed a little, fanning her face.

I set the glass down, and she wrapped her arms around me, pressing her body close to mine. I held her for a while, letting the alcohol settle into her system before I grabbed her hand in mine and led her back to our room.

The fact that she hadn’t said a word yet was all I needed to know that her nightmare had been fucking brutal. She was shaken up.

When we were laying down again, she put her head on my chest, her leg and arm draped over me. I wrapped my arm tightly around her back, playing with her hair, my other hand holding hers on my chest above the steady beat of my heart. Somehow, I knew she needed some kind of evidence that I was still alive.

“Tell me about your nightmare, my girl,” I coaxed.

She drew in a deep breath, her hand tightening around mine. I flattened her hand on my chest. “You were shot again,” she whispered. She gagged, squeezing her eyes shut. “Clean shot through the head. No hope.” Tears slid from her eyes and pooled on my chest. “You were protecting me from whoever is after me and . . . you didn’t stand a chance,” she choked out.

I rolled over onto my side and draped my thigh over her legs, squeezing her to me. “I’m here. I’m alive. I’m breathing, my girl. You’re not losing me, you hear me?”

She nodded weakly. I brushed my lips to the top of her head. “Sleep, my girl. I’ve got you,” I promised. “The monsters in your head can’t touch us.”

The next morning, Jessie buried herself in cleaning. I knew she was trying to cope in her own way, and after kissing her senseless behind the bar, making sure everyone saw, I went to go work out, needing to get out my own pent-up energy. Not to mention, I was trying to get back in shape after being on non-strenuous doctor orders for fucking months.

Joey was already working out when I stepped into the gym. He looked up from where his phone was propped up on the treadmill, no doubt some kind of movie playing. He yanked his headphones out of his ears and slowed his run some.

“What the fuck happened to my sister?” he demanded.

I began stretching because fuck, one time a couple of years ago I hadn’t, and I had cramped up like a mother fucker. I swore never again. Joey had been laughing too hard to help me. Fucking Whiler had come to my rescue.



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