Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 49989 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 250(@200wpm)___ 200(@250wpm)___ 167(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49989 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 250(@200wpm)___ 200(@250wpm)___ 167(@300wpm)
But he did have a name.
Right now, that token from Boss was the only thing keeping him from grabbing Cleo and getting the fuck out of Dodge. Priest needed that name. Needed his revenge.
“Are we not staying here?” she asked.
He sat in the armchair. Cleo Bennet had become entangled in his reclusive life. He should be more upset. She looked at him like he was some kind of savior. But he was far from it.
Priest had been helpless to help his loved ones decades ago. That trauma made him into the beast he was today. Now this girl with the blonde hair and big blue eyes looked to him for direction, for comfort … and he wanted to be everything she needed.
He didn’t realize how much until now.
The past weeks felt like a lifetime, and he didn’t want to let her go.
He wouldn’t.
There was no turning back now. She’d infiltrated his impenetrable layers, and he couldn’t live without her after having her underfoot for so long. He was falling for her, even though he refused to admit the fact even to himself.
“We’ll stay the night. Keep Boss happy. But I’m not partnering with Harb.”
“What about the safe house?”
Priest shook his head. “I’m not leaving you there. I don’t trust those places. You’re safest with me.”
“Okay.”
He immediately made eye contact with her, shocked she wasn’t giving him attitude. She looked lost, fragile, and all his protective instincts came alive. And more than that.
“You can take the bed,” he said.
She frowned. “You can’t sit in a chair all night.”
“I can always get another room close by.” He stood up, and she rushed toward him, putting the flat of her hand against his chest. He glanced down to where she made contact. He never let anyone touch him. If they did manage, it was usually the last thing they remembered.
Cleo’s touch was different.
“Please don’t go.”
“Why?”
“I don’t want to be alone. I’m … scared,” she said.
His cock grew stiff in his pants despite his best efforts to feel only pity for the girl.
“This place is protected. You have nothing to worry about here.”
“Please. I won’t take up much room.” She was still touching him, the heat from her hand searing his skin through the fabric of his shirt. “Please.”
“Fine. It’s late. We should get to sleep so we can be out of here by first light. Harb won’t be awake early. Hopefully we can ditch him.”
She peeled down the blanket on one side of the bed. “I don’t have anything with me. I still don’t have the being-kidnapped thing figured out yet.”
“It’s one night.”
“Right. Are you okay if I sleep in my bra and underwear? These pants aren’t very comfortable.”
He groaned in displeasure. “Do whatever you want once the lights go out. Just stay on your side.”
After shutting off the lights, he found his way back to the bed and tugged off his t-shirt. He could hear her undressing but tried not to think much about it. The past few weeks had become increasingly brutal for him. Cleo was lush and gorgeous and didn’t even realize it. Sometimes she’d walk around the house in one of his t-shirts that barely went past her thighs, and it took all his effort to keep disassociated. It was usually easy, but not with her. He’d spent many hours downstairs in his home gym working off the sexual frustration.
When they were both settled in the bed, the shroud of darkness covering them, it was too fucking quiet. He could hear his own breathing, and it was unnerving. She was too close. Too unnaturally silent. Something had broken inside her, and all he wanted to do was fix her, to put her back together without all the damage.
“I’m sorry you’re stuck in the middle of all this,” he said.
“Well, at least you didn’t kill me.”
“Cleo, I’m being serious,” he said. “If I knew things would get this deep, I would have just let you walk.”
“And break your own rules?”
“They’re not my rules.”
“Right. I’ve met your Boss. What he says goes. I get it.”
More silence.
“You aren’t an obligation, Cleo. I came for you. Nobody gave that order.” It felt foreign opening up, allowing himself to be emotionally vulnerable. But she’d gotten under his skin. He wanted to keep her. The way she made him feel was like coming out of a coma and starting to live again. To feel again. She made him laugh. Maybe she was just the push he needed to get his head back in the game, but he knew it was more than that. She put up a tough exterior, but she was vulnerable and fragile at the core. He saw through all her acting, overtalking, and deflecting. Her laughter was to mask the pain. They were more alike than either of them realized.
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“It’s because I’m innocent. You’ve told me before,” she said.