Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 45045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
“You don’t need to help,” he said as we walked down the hall. “I was just getting rid of her. Now, let’s finish that talk.”
He opened the door, then pushed me toward the couch. Part of me wanted to argue with him, just out of habit. But I also wanted to hear what he had to say. So, I sat down, crossing my arms over my chest. Eli settled next to me, right in the middle of the sofa. Typical. He had a whole damned piece of furniture to sit on, but he had to take the spot right next to me. Making himself comfortable, he leaned back and turned toward me.
“You know what the club is,” he said. “Right?”
“I know all about the club,” I replied, wondering where he was going with this. “I grew up with the club. I lived in Gus’s house before you, remember?”
“Jesus, why do you always have to bring that up?” he asked, clearly frustrated. “I was a little kid. I needed a place to live, and that room was big enough for both of us. Where was I supposed to sleep? The kitchen? Your bedroom was where they put me. I did what I was told.”
“Did they tell you to kidnap Lemur?”
He blew out his breath in exasperation. “I was ten years old, Peaches. I’m sorry I took your stuffed animal. I’ve apologized about a thousand times now, but I don’t have a fucking time machine. I can’t fix it.”
“You cut off his tail and kept it as a trophy,” I hissed.
Eli looked away. “That was shitty. Ten-year-olds do shitty things.”
“You hung it on your rearview mirror in high school.”
He shifted. Clearly, the guilt had gotten to him. I paused to savor the moment.
“Eighteen-year-olds do shitty things, too,” he admitted. “And if I remember correctly, you stole that car. Smashed one of the fenders.”
“It was a rescue operation,” I pointed out. “I had to retrieve Lemur’s remains and give him a dignified burial. The car was just collateral damage, something that never would’ve happened if you hadn’t desecrated his corpse.”
Eli closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. Then he opened them again.
“You know that the Reapers are more than just a bunch of guys who like to ride motorcycles together, right?”
“Everyone knows that.”
“Yeah, but you grew up with it,” he continued. “When we say we’re brothers, those aren’t just words… And part of that brotherhood is watching each other’s backs. That’s how this thing works.”
“Were you watching someone’s back when you went to prison for a crime you didn’t commit?”
“Do you really expect me to answer that?” he asked. “Didn’t we just cover this? You know how things are with the club. And you know we don’t talk about this shit. What the hell do you want from me?”
“I want answers!” I said, my voice rising. “You call them your brothers. Brothers love each other, asshole. When you love someone, you don’t let them throw away their lives in a prison cell!”
“That’s not what happened.”
“Then what did happen?” I demanded, shifting sideways on the couch, facing him. “Because I remember that night. We were drunk—which is the only reason I started kissing you, by the way—and you were nowhere near where that guy died. Why did you leave that night, Eli? And how the hell did you end up under arrest for something you couldn’t possibly have done?”
He opened his mouth to answer, but I cut him off.
“Don’t you dare feed me any more bullshit. I know exactly who and what the Reapers are—and what they’re not. They didn’t order you to take the fall for someone. You made that choice. You say you want us to be friends. That we should work together? Prove it. Give me an explanation.”
The words hung between us, along with a thousand memories. Eli’s eyes darkened, his expression intense as he caught my shoulders, pulling me toward him.
“Peaches, if there was any way to tell you, I would,” he said, holding my gaze.
“You’re a liar,” I whispered. “You don’t care about this bar, and you don’t care about me.”
“That’s not true.”
We stared at each other for long seconds, at an impasse. Then he shook his head slowly, muttering, “Fuck it.”
Suddenly, his mouth was on mine, and I felt his hand sliding into my hair, gripping it tightly as his tongue thrust into my mouth. Sensations exploded through me—need and desire and just a hint of triumph. Because whatever it was that we’d felt for each other all those years ago, I hadn’t imagined it.
We’d been frantic that night, ripping at each other’s clothes, years of sexual tension driving us into a frenzy. This time, Eli’s kiss was different. Not the crazed, sloppy mouth-fucking he’d given me at that party. This was deep and hungry.
As if he were starved for my taste.