Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80495 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80495 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
A blur of black charges forward, and it makes a sound like an animal. I’ve let an animal into my house, and it’s rushing the door. Oh no, Aiden the Anus is going to be collateral damage as this enraged beast tries to get out. How very unfortunate that fate has a terrible sense of humor. He’s not going to get hit by a bus. That’s not how karma comes for him.
But it’s not a bull. Nor is it an animal. It is so rabidly angry that I think it might be foaming at the mouth. Not it. He.
Beau takes Aiden down in a brotherly hug that isn’t so brotherly. Either he’s seriously good at making a citizen’s arrest, or he starred at football when he was younger. He makes the best tackle. Aiden doesn’t just stumble back. No, he flies back. He’s a zero match for Beau’s momentum and expertise.
Aiden ends up on his ass on my porch, looking for all the world like he doesn’t know what type of bus just hit him, but it obviously hurt. It hurt so much that he’s gasping like a gutted fish. And Beau? He’s not angry. He’s brusque and collected. He’s stone-cold as he searches Aiden. I don’t realize what he’s looking for until a wallet goes airborne. Then, a phone. Beau’s hands keep flying until he lets out a grunt of satisfaction.
A weapon. He was looking for a weapon.
It’s a relief Aiden doesn’t have anything on him. He was never the type to threaten anyone outright. Even when he was at his worst, he hid behind a fake persona.
My real life.
When Beau’s satisfied that Aiden isn’t going to pull a gun or a knife or pepper spray him in the face, he hauls him up, grabbing him by the back of the T-shirt the way a mother cat scruffs a kitten. Aiden was always smart. His eyes are huge, so huge they practically redefine bugging out. He looks at me like I’ve just dropped from the sky, fresh from another universe. Like he’s never seen me before or ever had the audacity to fuck up my life.
I scramble off the floor, panic coursing through my veins. “Don’t kill him,” I beg. I know better than to use Beau’s name because the less Aiden knows about him, the better.
“I’m not going to kill him,” Beau grouches as he marches Aiden over to one of the wooden chairs on the porch and slams him down so hard that I literally hear his teeth knock together. His jaw practically flaps from side to side like a cartoon character meeting the business end of a big fist. Lips flap, and eyes get bigger. “But I am going to ask him some questions.”
“Who the f—fuck are you?” Aiden grits out.
Beau shakes his head, grinning coldly. He’s so freaking calm. I’ve barely just picked myself up, and I’m not calm. Not at all. I’m still shattered. My back is now up against the house, and I don’t remember even moving. I just feel the press of hardwood siding against my spine, and it feels good. It feels like security.
“That’s not how this works, but we are going to play meet and greet.” Beau hasn’t taken his hand off Aiden’s shoulder. He’s pressing him into that chair hard enough to bruise. Hard enough to crush bone. I don’t think Beau’s truly hurting him, but Aiden gets the message. He blubbers but stops short of crying. It’s just like Aiden to put on an act, even one of fear.
He’s only ever been one part truth and nine parts straight-up liar to the tune of douchebag extraordinaire.
Beau turns his eyes in my direction. I expect to see them flat and emotionless, the way they normally are, but they’re so fiery that I’m winded. He’s not even bothering to hide how pissed he is. He didn’t know anything about Aiden and me, but when Aiden showed up, he watched me crumple, so he flew through the door, tackled my ex-boyfriend, and sat him down. Now, he looks like just one word from me, and he’d be okay with doing things to make Aiden suffer, though not like torture since there are other ways to make a person squirm.
I want to give that word so badly. Because that word would feel like justice. But then, wouldn’t I be exactly like Aiden?
No, probably not. No one could be such a slimy turdball as that.
Still, I don’t have to stoop to the level of asking one person to hurt another. It’s not right, and in the end, I’ll regret it. Revenge never really feels good when it’s all over, does it? Or does it? Maybe it’s actually pretty satisfying. Shit, I don’t know. Letting Beau scare Aiden might be fairly entertaining.
Beau backs off and raises his hands in the air, palms forward. Aiden doesn’t read it as a peace gesture because it’s not one. Instead, he reads it as stay the fuck in that chair and cooperate, or I’ll make you stay the fuck in that chair and cooperate.