Total pages in book: 205
Estimated words: 204377 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1022(@200wpm)___ 818(@250wpm)___ 681(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 204377 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1022(@200wpm)___ 818(@250wpm)___ 681(@300wpm)
“What happens when they fuck me?”
“Don’t tempt them.”
Her face turns bright red. The anger there…Jesus, that pissed her off.
“Tempt them? Are you fucking kidding me? No. You know what? Fuck this.” She pushes up and cries out in pain. With an arm around her ribs, she heaves a choppy breath and thrusts a finger at the door. “Get out!”
“Do we have a deal?”
“What deal? Don’t have sex with your brothers? As if I would ever agree to them touching me!” Her voice rises several octaves. “I just had a miscarriage. At least three of my ribs are broken. And let’s not forget. I was kidnapped. I despise all of you!”
Heat flares in my blood as I slowly unfold from the chair and prowl toward the bed. When I reach her, I set a hand on the mattress and bend in. She leans back, falling against the pillows, her gaze latched on mine.
“In one month, your body will be healed.” I press my other hand to the bed on the far side, caging her in without touching her.
The feminine scent and warmth radiating from her scramble my thoughts and tighten my insides.
Her mouth. It’s so pink and lush and angry. What would it taste like?
Violence.
Sex.
Delicious.
With great effort, I shove away the urge to sink my teeth into her lips. “When you’re healed, you’ll be interacting with us every minute of every day, immersed in the daily chores, rubbing up against my brothers, polluting their air, and embedding your toxicity in their goddamn pores. It won’t take long before they’re fighting each other for pieces of you, tearing one another limb from limb. There will be nothing left of you. Or them.”
“Denver can’t possibly want that. Convince him to fly me home.”
“Are you daft?” I bark out a cold laugh. “Think through that.”
She’s seen Denver’s face, his plane, his yacht, and his multi-billion-dollar home. She doesn’t know how to locate Hoss, but she knows enough, and she’s vicious enough to retaliate and hunt him down if he returned her to her life.
He’ll never let her go, and she fucking knows it.
Before he brought her to Hoss, he would’ve made it clear that escape isn’t possible. But apparently, she isn’t a woman who confronts obstacles with inaction. She had to test his warning. She had to try. And now she’s proved to herself that Hoss is a one-way trip.
This is her home now. She’ll die here. Sooner rather than later. It’s a hard thing to come to terms with, but she will.
In the meantime…
“Stay away from my brothers.” My tone is cruel, unwavering, making her flinch. “Understood?”
“Leave. Get out of my face, you fuck!” Her neck stiffens.
So help me, I reach for it, giving into the impulse to strangle her until her eyes pop out of her head. As my hand wraps around the soft, breakable column of bone and blood, the door opens behind me.
“Leonid.” The razored edge of Denver’s tone lances through the bloodlust, snapping me out of it.
For now.
Without moving my eyes from hers, I slowly uncurl my fingers, one at a time, letting each callused digit scrape against her delicate throat. Then I straighten and clasp my hands behind me.
“Your son is such a sweetheart.” A malicious smile for Denver. For me, she lowers her voice so only I can hear. “Psychopath.”
“That so?” Denver steps beside me, searching my expression.
“He was tucking me in.” She burrows into the pillow. “Now I can go to sleep and dream of never waking up.”
The doting watchfulness shining in Denver’s eyes puts a bitter taste on my tongue.
He’s smart enough to see past her bullshit, but he wants this too much. He wants us eating out of her fucking hand.
“If you leave me alone with her again…” I pivot and storm toward the door. “I’ll kill her.”
“No, you won’t.”
The smile in his voice fails to veil the threat he wants me to hear.
If I hurt her, he’ll hurt me back.
In the worst way possible.
13
Frankie
—
Sorrow. Bottomless, tar-black sorrow bubbles from the hole inside me. I dream about tiny fingers, newborn skin, baby breath, cooing noises, first words—all the things I can’t have. The sorrow is a rotten well of suffering, turning my thoughts against me and killing me slowly as I ache for all I lost.
I am lost, and I don’t want to find my way back.
Why would I? What’s waiting for me on the other side?
More pain.
Endless longing.
Constant fear.
I no longer have my husband’s arms. I can’t crawl into that strong, safe place between them. Nor can I turn to my career and do the one thing I’m good at—helping the sick. That, too, was taken from me.
They stripped me of everything, including freedom, and now, I must survive alone in an unfamiliar world.
Another week passes in Kodiak’s room. I haven’t seen him since the crash when he trained his crossbow on my chest. Leonid hasn’t made an appearance, either. Not since he threatened to kill me.