Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 131916 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 660(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131916 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 660(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
But the twisted thing was there was a bigger part of me that wouldn’t allow me to leave Charleigh. Charleigh who was still on the dingy ground, her fear and confusion coming off her in a crash of violent waves.
I started to stand before Cash fisted his hand in my shirt. “Be fuckin’ careful, man,” he raked through the pain.
My nod was tight. “I will.”
I returned to where Charleigh was sitting on the ground on the other side of my bike. Tears streamed down her gorgeous face.
“Fuck, Charleigh.”
Her eyes squeezed closed, and she buried her hands in her face as a guttural sob erupted from her chest. Carefully, I gathered her up, murmuring, “You’re okay. I’ve got you. You’re okay.”
Without letting her go, I swung onto my bike, though this time I put her in front of me, her chest to mine, caging her in like I could act as a shield.
Knowing that’s what I would be.
Her shield.
Whatever it took.
FORTY-NINE
CHARLEIGH
I cleaved myself to River as he flew down the road, my face buried in his shirt and my hands fisted in the back of it. It was disorienting, traveling backward, unable to see where we were going or even understand what was happening.
Trying to come to grips with what had transpired outside the club. Trying to process the horror that pummeled through my insides and spun me into confusion.
Dizziness washed through my brain and nausea roiled in my stomach.
River’s heart thundered at a manic pace, a thunder at my ear, a snarl of turmoil and a clutter of wrath.
He took the right turn fast, barely slowing as the bike angled before he was gunning it again. In an instant, the air was cooler, and I knew we were on Vista View, though I could tell he’d passed by the turn-off to his house and instead was barreling farther toward the mountain in the distance.
Finally, he slowed and made a couple quick turns, and I peeled myself back enough to see that we’d hit a dirt path that wound beneath the trees. When he came to a stop, we were in a clearing up close to the lake.
Trees all around.
Soaring and shrouding.
Moonlight glinted through their abundant leaves, casting a pale glow over the wild grasses that grew at the shore.
River killed the engine.
In an instant, silence surrounded us. The only sound was the distant hoot of an owl and the lapping of the waters against the embankment.
That and the frantic beat of our hearts that refused to slow.
River curled his arms around me as another sob hitched in my throat.
“I’ve got you, Charleigh. I’ve got you.”
I hiccupped as I wept into his shirt, and words started tumbling out, “It’s my fault. I never should have come here. Never should have entangled myself in your family. Put you in danger. It’s my fault.”
That’s what this was, wasn’t it? Frederick had found out where I was. Had found out I was alive. I should have known I could never sit still. Should have known I could never stop watching behind me.
Could never stop moving.
Running, running, running.
River held me tighter, and I could feel the hostility bristle in every muscle of his body.
“No, Charleigh. Don’t think that was about you.” His voice was hoarse. “Think it’s me who put you in danger. Me who’s getting you entangled in my shit.”
His words barely cracked through the tumult that wracked me through.
“Me,” he wheezed, somehow pulling me closer.
A thousand questions spun through my mind, thoughts breaking through and penetrating the disorder.
The confessions he’d made.
The warnings he’d issued.
“I’ve done terrible fuckin’ things.”
A slow awareness crept over me. I’d been so shocked that I hadn’t recognized River’s reaction. The way Trent and Jud had gotten out of their SUV with guns drawn. The way Theo and Kane had taken off after the shooters on their bikes.
And no one had called the cops.
No one.
And rather, River had run with me to this secluded spot.
Trepidation clotted in me like curdled milk.
Sour and fermented.
“What do you mean?” How I managed to get it out around the rocks in my throat, I didn’t know.
River shifted, edging back to take me by both sides of my face. Those storm-cloud eyes raged. A hurricane in this false calm. They flicked all over my features as if he was the one who was hunting for answers.
He swallowed hard, and the words tattooed on his throat bobbed and writhed.
No mercy.
“Warned you I was a bad man, Charleigh.”
My insides quivered, and part of me wanted to hop off his bike and run. The rest of me was pinned, unable to move beneath the weight of the man that’d had me hinged since the moment I’d first met him.
I could feel the plea pinch my face. “What does that mean?”
Hesitation brimmed in him, and I could almost hear his secrets bashing against the confines of where he kept them chained.