Total pages in book: 150
Estimated words: 136791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
My lips pull down into a frown. “I don't want your patch, Cade.”
Once upon a time, it was all I wanted. When he gave it to me back then, I thought I'd wear it forever.
Then – Age Seventeen
“I have something for you,” Cade says, wrapping his arms around me from behind.
I melt against his hard chest, smiling. “Cade. You already gave me my birthday present.”
“I know.” His lips brush the side of my throat. “This isn’t a present, though. Think of it more like a promise.”
“A promise?” I turn in his arms, craning my head back to look up at him. I swear, the older he gets, the more beautiful he grows. Every day damn, he gets hotter.
At twenty, he’s devasting.
“A promise,” he repeats. “Close your eyes.”
I narrow them at him instead.
“Little monster,” he admonishes with a grin. “Close your eyes.”
“Fine.” I pop one open again. “But this better not be a prank, Cade. I’ll be very unhappy with you.”
“It’s not a prank.” His lips touch mine in a sweet kiss. “I’d never prank you.”
I believe him. He’d never do that.
I close my eyes, practically squirming with impatience. I’ve never had very much of that, especially when it comes to surprises. I guess some things never change no matter how much I grow up.
Seventeen.
One more year and my whole life starts.
“Hold out your hand.”
I thrust it out eagerly.
Cade’s deep laugh washes over me. “Eager little monster,” he says, brushing strands of hair away from my face.
“You made me this way,” I remind him, not in the least bit sorry about it. If I’m spoiled, he did it to himself. I try not to be a brat, though. I think I succeed.
Most people would probably hate being called a little monster, but not me. I know why he does it. It doesn’t have anything to do with me being a brat or being spoiled.
When I was little, he used to read The Monster at the End of This Book to me. I begged him to read it over and over again. He’d laugh and say that he created his own little monster. He’s called me that ever since.
I love it. I love the thought of being his, something he helped create. I just love him.
He places something flat in my outstretched palm.
“Open your eyes, baby girl.”
They flutter open, landing on the small patch he placed in my hand. It’s a skull with wings, a single word across the top. Kratos. His MC.
“Oh,” I whisper, tears stinging my eyes.
“It’s one of my patches,” he says. “I want you to wear it.”
“Cade.” My fingers close around the patch as I lift my gaze to his. My heart is in my throat, beating wildly.
He’s always fought so hard to keep the MC stuff separate from me. I’ve never been part of it, never felt like I had a place in it. He started it to protect me, but I was never allowed to know anything about it.
This feels like the keys to the kingdom.
“I’m going to love you forever, January James,” he says, his voice somber. The same vow reflects in his eyes. “This is my promise to you. When you’re old enough, when you’re ready, that patch will be a ring.”
“I’ll wear it forever,” I sob, throwing myself into his arms.
The day he left, I ripped the patch off my jacket. I didn't want anything to do with the MC. I didn't want anything to do with their bullshit. I turned my back on all of it.
The MC destroyed us.
Even now, I think it's destroying us. I just don't understand why. All day, I've tried to figure out why he thinks he's responsible for what happened and what he could have done that was so bad.
I still don't know.
“It's not mine, baby girl,” he whispers, meeting my gaze. His eyes are so stark, so bleak it hurts to look at him. “It's his.”
I drop my gaze to the patch, see the way my hand trembles. A thousand different emotions course through me, each more painful than the last.
“Titan,” I whisper, my voice shaking.
Cade groans, a broken, devastating sound.
My gaze flies back to his face. I never knew sound had a look, but it does. The exact noise he just made is painted across his face. Torment rages in his eyes, so damn much of it I want to fall to my knees under the weight of it.
How is he still standing? How is he still breathing?
God, it hurts to see him like this.
“Cade,” I whisper, my throat raw and my heart bleeding for him. He’s always been larger than life to me. I knew he was hurting. Since he’s been back, it’s impossible to look at him and not see it, but that was just a drop in the bucket compared to the well of grief and tidal wave of torment raging through him now. He’s kept so much hidden, fighting alone.