Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 74022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“You checked over your apartment?” Boston asks, stepping past me and striding inside.
“No, I wasn’t going to risk walking around unarmed if someone was waiting in there, though I’m fairly certain they’re not.”
Boston stops, and turns to me. “You got a gun? Any sort of protection in this place?”
I shake my head.
“Why not?”
I roll my eyes. “Because I didn’t figure I needed it.”
“This day and age, everyone needs a gun. Everyone.”
Mason steps in. “You go left, I’ll go right. You two girls stay here, don’t move.”
The two men disappear and I turn to Saskia. She looks guilty, but she shouldn’t be. This isn’t her fault. I chose to do what I did with Enzo.
“Don’t look like a sad, wounded puppy, Sas,” I say, nudging her shoulder with mine. “I chose to piss Enzo off.”
“Because I got him locked away, pissed him off, and got kidnapped. You had no choice. You were saving my life.”
I smile at her. “And I’d do it all over again. I’m not scared of Enzo.”
She raises her brows. “Bullshit. I can see you’re worried.”
“Well, I mean, I’m worried random men have been to my house. But he does not scare me.”
Saskia purses her lips, and Mason returns. “All clear.”
I exhale. “Thanks, Mason.”
Boston comes back a minute later, too. “All good.”
“What’s your security like on this place?” Mason asks.
“Just normal locks, nothing spectacular.”
He nods. “Will get Malakai to put a watch on, just to make sure no one gets close again.”
“I don’t need that,” I begin to argue, but Boston looks to me, his face hard.
“You’re not gettin’ a choice, Chantelle.”
I raise my brows. “Last time I checked, I’m a fully grown woman. I believe I can do whatever the hell I want.”
“Chan,” Saskia says, “while I appreciate your strong womanly attributes, it’ll make me feel a whole lot better knowing the bikers are watching you. Please, if you love me, which I know you do, let them have someone keep an eye on you.”
I grind my teeth. “You’re playing on my weakness for you, but fine, I’ll do it.”
She smiles. “Thank you, so much.”
“Get a gun, too,” Mason says. “Boston is right, everyone should have one. Will change the locks on your doors, check your windows, but you need to let us know if you notice anything, at all, that’s off.”
“Let’s face it,” I mutter. “If Enzo wants to get hold of me, he will. Saskia is proof of that. No amount of watching me will change that. I’m not scared of him.”
“Don’t be a fuckin’ hero,” Boston growls.
“Oh, eat me, Boston,” I throw at him, crossing my arms.
“I’ll stay here with her for a bit, check over everything. You let Malakai know what we need,” Boston says to Mason.
“Hell no,” I throw out. “You’re not staying here.”
Boston’s stare tells me not to mess with him, ever, not ever. I clamp my mouth shut.
“Well, that’s a first.” Saskia giggles. “I think it’s a good idea, even if you don’t, chicky. At least let him make sure you’re safe until we can get someone watching you.”
I exhale and cross my arms. “You’re a terrible best friend.”
She grins at me. “Love you.”
With that, her and Mason leave.
And I’m left alone.
With Boston.
Which we all know, never ends well.
Ever.
~*~*~*~
CHANTELLE
I sit on the sofa, watching Boston move around my apartment, checking every window, if they’re not screwed in, he’s screwing them in. He makes sure it is fully secured. Well, as secured as it can be. I mean, in the end, if someone wants in, they’ll get in, but at the very least I’ll probably hear it with his extra touches, and might be able to defend myself.
“Unless they’re carrying around tools, they’re not getting in,” I say to him when he uses the drill to drive another screw into the wooden frame on my kitchen window.
“Don’t throw sass at me, Chantelle. Keepin’ you safe here.”
“And as I said, if they want to get hold of me, they’re going to. It doesn’t matter what you do.”
He glares at me, finishes what he’s doing, and then walks over, dropping all the tools onto the coffee table. “Couldn’t give a fuck if they’re going to, or not. I’m not about to open the door wide and let them in because your attitude fuckin’ sucks.”
My attitude sucks?
I wonder if he’s figured out why yet?
Eye roll.
“I appreciate,” I grind out, “you doing all of this. But I’m fine now.”
“I’m not goin’ anywhere. Find some blankets, a pillow, I’m sleepin’ on the couch.”
I blink. “Oh, no, you’re not...”
He stares at me. “Yeah, I fuckin’ am.”
“Boston, seriously, no. I’ve had enough complications when it comes to you, I don’t need you on my freakin’ sofa.”
He shrugs. “Sleep like this then.”
He walks over, using my toss pillows to throw up one end, then he launches that big body down and puts his hands behind his head, staring over at me. I stare back, and for a moment, we just watch each other. He’s not leaving. I know that as well as he knows that. The damned jerk off.