Total pages in book: 266
Estimated words: 250787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1254(@200wpm)___ 1003(@250wpm)___ 836(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 250787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1254(@200wpm)___ 1003(@250wpm)___ 836(@300wpm)
Adam snorts. “Ashtyn didn’t seem to worry about him during the four years she was gone.”
Saint looks at him over his shoulder. “Charlotte.” He corrects Adam, then looks back at me. “Charlotte came to me worried about you.”
I can’t help the laughter that escapes. Fuck, she’s good. I told her that Saint, Ashtyn, and Kashton didn’t know where I lived, so she ratted me out.
His eyes drop to my wrists, and I stiffen when his eyes meet mine again. “What the fuck do you want, Saint?” I growl, getting to the point. What the hell did Charlotte tell him? I hate that they even think I could be suicidal. That I would do that to them.
“Why are you hiding out here?” he demands.
“I’m not hiding,” I say through gritted teeth.
“So you left without getting a new tracker put in?” he asks skeptically.
I hate the fact that they removed it when I was shot. They didn’t want my brothers to find my body once I was dead. “I needed to do this alone,” I say, changing the subject.
He snorts. “Alone?” Then he looks over his shoulder at Adam. “You don’t seem alone to me.”
Neither one of us says anything, and as the silence lingers, my blood pressure rises. I’m going to strangle her.
Sighing, he runs a hand down his face. “I just wanted to check on you.”
Fuck that! He wanted to show up to tell me he knows where I’m staying since I’ve been ignoring Ashtyn’s phone calls. I’ve only spoken to Kash a couple of times. “Well, here I am. I’m alive and well.” Walking over to the front doors, I open one. A not-so-subtle gesture to tell him to get the fuck out without physically kicking him out.
He gets the hint and walks out of the house with his head held high and shoulders back. I slam the door shut as he goes to turn around and speak to me.
I look over at Adam, and he just picks up the laptop and disappears into his room. Grabbing a water, I enter mine and catch sight of the notebook she gave me sitting on my long dresser.
Opening it up, I look through the untouched pages and get an idea. Slamming it shut, I smile to myself. Act like a brat, get treated like a brat.
THIRTY-EIGHT
CHARLOTTE
Ilie on my couch with my hair up in a messy bun, wearing nothing but a sweatshirt and cotton shorts while drinking wine from the bottle.
I’ve decided to drink my worries away. Haidyn has my laptop, and I don’t know when I’ll get it back. Thankfully, I’ve still got my Apple watch and the second cell phone that the Lords gave me. I haven’t received anything new so that’s a plus. They don’t contact me every day, so I have some time to figure things out.
It’s been a week since I stormed into his house, pulled a gun on him, and then went to Carnage. I used my anger for good use.
I pull through the gates and up to the dark castle. Getting out of the car, there’s a smile on my face. I’ve made peace with my decision, and I’m actually giddy about it.
The front double doors open, and I’m greeted by a man dressed in an all-black tux. “Miss Hewett,” he says, sounding surprised. “Haidyn isn’t—”
“I know.” I interrupt Jessie. “I need to speak to Saint, please.”
“Miss Hewett—”
“I need to speak to Saint.” I repeat. “Please. It’s important. It’s about Haidyn.”
“What about him?”
I look up to see Saint coming down the stairs. He’s got a pair of black sweatpants on and is in the process of pulling a T-shirt over his head. “I know where he is,” I rush out.
“Let’s talk privately,” Saint says, nodding toward the same room he took me into last time. Then I notice he looks over his shoulder as if to see if Ashtyn is following him and has overheard what I said.
Interesting.
Entering the room, he shuts the door behind me. “What’s wrong? Is he okay?”
I start to fan my face as if I’m worked up. I am, but not because I give a fuck about Haidyn. But I’m supposed to care, right? I’m supposed to be his therapist and want what’s best for him. Instead, I’m here to rat him out like a little snitch. Dropping my hand, I start to rub my hands together and whisper, “Patient-client…”
“Fuck that bullshit.” He hisses and demands, “Is he okay?”
This also tells me that Saint hasn’t heard from him. What about Kashton? Is Haidyn ignoring them both? If so, why? “I…I’m not sure. He seemed okay, but…” I sniff.
“But what?” He places his hand on my shoulder, and it takes everything in me not to step back.
None of them are overly friendly, but Saint seems to be the hothead out of the three since I’ve known them. But that could have been because of the story that revolves around his wife. “He called me, wanting a meeting. Said he needed to talk to someone.”