Total pages in book: 176
Estimated words: 167257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 836(@200wpm)___ 669(@250wpm)___ 558(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 167257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 836(@200wpm)___ 669(@250wpm)___ 558(@300wpm)
My belly sank as I took in the dimly lit parking lot and rundown motel a few feet away.
Hooker’s Cove.
Rowdy had driven me home.
I whipped around to face him again. A sneer on my lips. “You couldn’t have just offered me a ride like a normal fucking person?”
My voice and all of the commotion must have carried.
The curtains moved inside a few of the rooms, so I turned my head, silently beseeching the guests who were discreetly peeking out of their windows. Once they noticed me looking, the drapes quickly drew back, and the message became clear.
No one was going to come to my rescue if Rowdy decided to murder me.
I didn’t think he would, but I’d been wrong about people before. Sutton. Sienna. My parents. Rowdy was particularly wishy-washy. It was like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to hate me, ignore me, or…be with me.
Right now, there was no emotion on his face to guide me as he stared blankly down at me. “Would you have come if I had?”
No.
Not while he had her with him, riding shotgun and touching him while I silently languished in the back seat. There was no sign of Savannah in his car now, and I stopped myself from wondering where she’d gone…and if she was waiting in his bed for him while he dealt with me.
I was silent, so he arrogantly spat, “Exactly.” His face was balled up like I was the cause of all our problems. “You like to do shit the hard way, Atlas, so this is me giving you what you want.”
“I didn’t ask to be kidnapped and tied up, Owen! I really thought—”
I’d thought I was going to die or be tortured for information I didn’t have.
I didn’t allow myself to finish that thought aloud—to let him see how vulnerable and helpless he’d made me feel. I already hated myself for allowing him to have so much of me when he’d done nothing to earn it.
“You thought what? You thought I’d hurt you?” He came toward me, but I backed away. “Atlas,” he pleaded, sounding frustrated. “I would never do that. If it ever came to it, I’d walk away before I ever raised a hand to you.”
“That’s your problem, Owen. You think physical pain is the only hurt there is. It’s not even the kind that cuts deepest. You’d know that if you knew how to care for anyone but yourself.”
I returned the blank stare he’d given me moments ago. This time, he was the open book. I saw my words land and watched with a twisted satisfaction as they mutilated his overinflated ego.
“All right,” he said lowly when the silence became too heavy. “I’ll give you that, Atlas. Just let me help you.”
“No. I don’t want anything from you.”
“Too bad. I’m not leaving you like this, and that’s not up for fucking discussion. You think I’m bad? Look at where you are.” All trace of the remorse he’d felt was gone as he basically demanded I let him clean up his mess.
Unfortunately, he was right.
As ruthless as Rowdy was, there were far worse creatures skulking around Hooker’s Cove.
Fancy Mack, the gold-tooth, silk-wearing pimp who loved pastels and lorded over the treacherous territory, was the worst of them all. A couple of his girls had even tried to recruit me up until a few days ago, and now they avoided me at all costs, but I wasn’t stupid enough to think that made me safe.
Hiding my sniffle, I nodded once before turning and granting him access to my hands bound tight against my spine. I stiffened at the cold press of metal against my skin, but with a flick of his hand, it was gone, and so was the rope. I rubbed at my sore wrists before silently turning to face him.
Rowdy tossed the rope and the knife in his trunk before handing me my purse, which still lay inside, and meeting my gaze. “I’m not good at this, Atlas. I can count on one hand how many times in my life I’ve apologized, but I can’t let you walk away without knowing that I would never hurt you.”
I visibly softened at his words and allowed him only a glimpse of my uncertainty before lowering my gaze to the ground. “You really mean it?” My voice was unguarded now. Hopeful. An open invitation.
It only took the span of a single breath before I saw his work boots—black Tims with blue laces—appear within my line of sight. His hands settled on my waist, drawing me in until there was no space left between our bodies. I could feel his heart beating wildly beneath my palms. It was the only thing that gave him away. That and, “Yes, pretty baby. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.”
Somehow, I believed him, even after all the reasons he’d given me tonight not to.