Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Tears spill down Blake’s cheeks, and his shoulders jitter as he hugs himself, lost in self-pity. Boo-fucking-hoo.
“What did you tell your brother, huh? Did you want me gone?"
Green eyes meet mine, and he shakes his head. “What? No! I was just scared, because just last night, you literally cuffed me to the bed. I don’t know you well. What would you have done in my place?” he asks and rubs his skin as the temperature in the room drops further.
It’s a bitter pill to swallow, but I just shake my head, because I can’t bear watching him cry. “Will you listen to me now?” I grab a fluffy blanket off the bed and drape it over his shoulders.
Blake nods.
As the adrenaline dissipates, I get cold too, but I have to deal with my back first, so I send him for the first aid kit and sit on the bed, staring at all the mess I’ll have to clean up. The assassin’s blood has soaked into the comforter, and he’s now a grayish-purple. I hate the fact that nothing about this can wait if I am to get the window replaced.
What a fucking nightmare. And during the Christmas season at that!
Now I wonder whether I should have kept Blake in the cage after all. He would have eventually come around. But then we couldn’t have had a lovely time ice skating. Relationships are hard.
Blake returns with the metal box containing bandages and all the other stuff I occasionally need to patch myself up, and he sits behind me. We’re so quiet I can hear him breathing.
“So… how do I do this?” he asks.
I instruct him through the wound-cleaning process and treat the pain as my punishment for trying to steal myself a boyfriend. Only when the needle starts piercing my skin, and I do need a few stitches going by the photo he took for me, can I focus again on the situation we’re in.
“What did you tell your brother about me? Should I expect a police raid soon?” I ask bitterly.
He sniffs, and I hate myself for being the cause of his tears, even though it’s him who’s betrayed me, not the other way around. I guess I just never was as sensitive as him, even as a child, so I might have to adjust to what a normal person would feel, especially when out of their depth.
“Um… just that you’re obsessive, and that I went home with you, and you’re not letting me go. And that if I’m not upstairs, I might be in a cage in the basement,” I mumble. “But if he wants to get rid of me, he’s not going to involve the police.”
True. “I’m not ‘obsessive’,” I grumble even though he might have a point.
Silence, and then, “seriously? You barely know me and already act like we’re a couple!” he says before adding another stitch.
I want to believe he’s being as gentle as he can, but it’s hard when I get such harsh words thrown in my face. “Because I know you’re a good fit for me. You said my snow globes were amazing, and then you grinded against me in bed like I was your sex toy.”
Blake inhales, and drops the needle, letting it hang against my skin. “I ‘grinded against’ you? I woke up with your boner pressed to my ass!”
I groan at that happy memory. “Can happen to anyone.”
“Yes, so don’t twist it like I was molesting you. You wouldn’t let me go, so I wanted to deal with my problem and go back to sleep. But no, you just had to make a whole thing of it, and now you’re telling me I started it?”
So he’s backing out. After such a glorious romp. After he spread his legs for me and moaned. He’s deep in denial if he believes he doesn’t desire me back. But I have more pressing matters to deal with.
“Why did you stop stitching?”
“Because I’m angry with you and I don’t want to make it worse just because I’m agitated.” He sighs, and just as I’m about to look back, I sense his hair against my shoulder. “I was so scared.”
“So… you don’t want me hurt?” My question’s a little needy, but my back is tender and so is my heart.
I feel him shake his head, and his warm hand squeezes my forearm. “No. I just… don’t know what to believe anymore.”
“Well, you sure can’t believe your fucking brother.” I have to take a deep breath, because I know I’m being too harsh on this boy who’s never known violence. “Do you have any idea why he wants you dead?”
“No. He always took good care of me. I just don’t understand. What did I ever do to him?” Blake asks, sending hot air against my flesh. “It makes no sense. But… if he did order the hit, then I need to know.”