Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 78438 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78438 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
His words creep into my mind as I watch him reach for a towel and wrap it around himself. He leaves the bathroom without another word.
The room spins, and I try to ignore the evidence of what we just did running down my inner thigh. When I get my legs to finally work properly again, I step back into the shower.
I sit in there until the water runs cold against my skin, and I still don’t know what to think. Not any closer to knowing what to say or how to feel. I want to hate Enzo, I want to see him drown in his own blood, but there is something more. It’s as if he anchors me to the ground. Keeps me sane enough to push through this mess, even if it is his fault.
A knock on the door pulls me from my thoughts.
“Jared wants to talk to you,” Enzo says gruffly. My body instantly responds to him even when I don’t want it to. Quickly, I turn off the water and wrap myself up in a towel.
“Okay.” Pulling the bathroom door open, I step out, so I can get some clothes on.
I find Enzo standing at the end of the bed, his arms folded over his chest. A shirt and pair of sweatpants are waiting for me on the mattress. No panties or bra. Hmm… Just the way Enzo likes his women. Not that it really matters.
As I slip the towel from my body, I watch Enzo. I’m done letting him be the one in control. I’m done being afraid, and I’m tired of feeling caged.
“What happened in there doesn’t make us okay,” I say sternly.
His eyes twinkle with amusement, and a panty-dropping smirk forms on his face as I pull on the sweatpants.
“Right. So fucking you senseless won’t make things better, but it’ll get you to forget for a short time.” My eyes narrow at him. He knows I’ve used him as a way to let the pain go. He isn’t dumb, and I didn’t expect him to be. I just didn’t think he’d have me figured out this quickly.
“Yes, I used you to forget. Sue me. But, don’t think you have me figured out because you don’t,” I growl, looking him straight in the eyes. When I look at him, I see a man I loved... and a man capable of killing me, all wrapped up in one.
Taking a step forward into my space, his finger traces my bottom lip as if he were memorizing it.
“There is no need to figure you out, you wear your emotions on your sleeve. Now go,” he orders, only making me angrier.
Good thing for him, I want to get away from him right now.
Balling my hands into fists, I pull my shirt on, ignoring him. Once fully dressed, I walk out of the room, slamming the door behind me. That’ll fucking teach him. As childish as it all is, I have been through so much shit. I deserve to act out.
“Come sit down,” Jared coaxes, smiling at me softly when I enter the living room. It’s still impossibly hard to look at him as a half-brother or a relative at all, and I wonder if I’ll ever be able to. Part of me hopes for that kind of connection while another part is scared of it.
Passing the leather couch, I take a seat in a chair in the corner. The cushion is soft, and I sink right into it.
Training my eyes on his, I say softly, “I want to know everything. I want to know what happened and how we got where we are. So much shit has taken place in the last month, and I don’t know who to believe and trust. As of right now, I have nothing to lose but my own life.”
He smiles, casually taking a seat across from me on the couch. I wonder what our father looks like. If he looks like Jared. But most of all, I wonder where he’s been all these years. Why I’ve never heard of him, and what he was doing when my mom was dying of cancer?
“First, as weird as this is… it’s pretty cool to have a sibling. Granted, the death of John is hard on you right now. You have to know he wasn’t your father, though. I know Enzo killing him made it harder than ever to deal with it, but there is more to it than what he just did to Enzo. As it turns out, John was my uncle. Well, technically yours too.”
“Uncle?” I question. What the hell is he talking about now? My father told me he was an only child. I never met my grandparents because they were dead. When Mom died, it was just Dad and me.
Scratching at the back of his head as if worried, he looks at the ceiling. “Yes, uncle. As in my dad, I mean, our dad and John were brothers. It explains why it was possible for him to pull off you being his daughter. Now see... I know your mind is spiraling out of control, but just breathe.”