Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 46895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
He’s there quickly, catching my arm, turning me to him, his touch both fire and ice somehow heating my skin and still chilling me inside and out. “You took that wrong,” he murmurs. “You didn’t want to marry me,” he claims.
“Says you, not me,” I reply, my tone softer now, the energy to yell or shout drained out of me, but I have the misfortune of still feeling too much where Luke is concerned. Just too much.
“Ana,” he says, his tone gentler now, rough with emotion, the deep baritone of his voice doing funny things to my belly, stirring a reaction to him that is all about heat and love.
He steps a little closer and I tell myself to back up, to move away, to run away before he cuts what’s left of my heart into pieces and watches me bleed out.
His cellphone rings and he grimaces, cursing under his breath. “I have to take this.”
“I know,” I say, “and maybe that’s for the best anyway.”
A muscle in his jaw ticks and he releases me, reaching for his phone. It buzzes with a text message that he reads before glancing at me. “Savage and Adam just pulled into the garage.”
“I really need to wash the death off me anyway. I’ll leave you to them.” I turn away.
“Ana,” he says, his voice a firm demand that I halt.
I do, but it’s a mere pause without a turn. I glance over my shoulder. “Yes?”
“We’re not done talking.”
“I think we should be, Luke. I think I am.”
It’s at that moment the door opens and I turn away, rushing toward the staircase, eager to be anywhere but in this room with Luke. And yet, I’ve spent the past two years wanting to be anywhere I could find Luke.
Chapter Nine
Luke
Footsteps sound behind me and I curse at the poorly timed interruption, turning with the expectation that I’ll be joined by Savage and Adam, only to watch Parker walk in the door. Big, broad, and tall, with sandy brown hair and a love for leather jackets, he walks toward me, hands out to his side. “Mr. Beautiful is here. Did you miss me?”
Relief washes over me and I meet him step by step, pulling the bastard into a bear hug. “I thought you were dead.”
He laughs and pulls back giving my shoulder a playful nudge. “Give me some damn credit, man. I’ve got skills and they’re multiplying, but I’m not losing control. I can’t fly a plane. I was stuck with some private pilot who was afraid of a little lightning.”
“Pussy,” I murmur jokingly. “You should have flown the damn thing yourself.”
“Then I would be dead.” His smile fades, his mood sobering. “How many of us are dead?”
“Jake so far. Executed and used for bait.”
“Ana?”
“She’s here.”
He scrubs his jaw. “Thank you, Lord, for that. I need a motherfucking drink.” He walks past me into the kitchen, opens the empty fridge, and slams it shut. “Or not.” He turns to face me. “What do you know?”
“First, where the hell are Savage and Adam?”
“They dropped me off and went to the store.”
In other words, nothing came from any lead they followed tonight, and Savage is—as Savage always is—hungry. I meet Parker on the other side of the island, on a mission for answers. I trust Adam and Savage and there was a point when I trusted Parker, but when trouble brews and originates from the past, no one from that era instantly earns anything but my caution. “What do you know about Trevor?”
He doesn’t even blink. “Besides him being a dirty bastard when he was living? He’s dead and we’re all better for it.”
“How do you know he was dirty?”
“We all knew what happened on that mission. That and I stayed in touch with Jake.”
“When?” I ask because this relationship is news to me. Parker wasn’t one of Kurt’s men. He was one of mine. He served with me. And he never worked with Jake before that dreaded day. He served with me. “And how did you get close to Jake?”
“We had a drink after Kasey’s funeral. He was a mess. I ended up hanging out with him for a few days. As for when he told me about Trevor, he texted me right after his accident. I ditched my phone, but it’s in my call log.”
Something Blake can check and I’ll damn sure make sure he does. “When was the last time you talked to Jake?” I ask.
“About six months ago. We connected around the holidays. He was always trying to get me to come spend them with him.”
As he did me, I think. Jake had my number and Ana did not. I shove away that thought that goes nowhere pretty. Ana should have known how to reach me in an emergency. That she didn’t is on me and shitty.