Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 114260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
I cross my arms on my chest and lean back so she doesn’t see me. I love to watch the way she curls her body upward, then down again, her slim figure taut as she stretches and elongates her muscles. She pulls up then lowers down once, twice, three times, then swings from the bar, preparing to vault herself toward the parkour station I’ve set up behind it.
I watch as she gracefully leaps over and under the bars, vaulting herself forward before she swings herself with ease to a platform at the very top. I’ve set up a ropes training course here as well which she navigates with ease, keeping her instincts primed, her body strengthened, and her reflexes sharp.
She lands barefoot on the springy landing platform at the foot of the highest bar, crouches, and looks my way. Her right side drops lower, her knuckles grazing the ground, a primal look if ever I saw one.
She scowls. “Stop lurking in the shadows and tell me why you followed me. Hiding’s so unlike you,” she says with disdain.
“I’m not hiding.” I step into the light, arms still crossed. “And you’re getting mouthy as fuck.”
“Getting?” she says with a sneer. “You knew when you kissed this mouth what you were getting into.”
It doesn’t really bother me that she’s impossible to break, impossible to understand, and headstrong as they come. I fucking love that about her.
She turns away from me as if to dismiss me, and heads to the singlesticks, otherwise known as cudgels. She lifts one and weighs it in her hands. A slender, round stick nearly three feet long, it’s thinner at one end and thicker at the other, a suitable weapon for someone of her slim stature.
“You’re better than this, Violet,” I say, heading toward her. I grab a cudgel myself and kick my shoes off.
I face her, stick in hand. I want to bend her over and smack her ass with the damn thing.
“Better than what?” she says, eyes narrowed. Behind us, the waves crash on the shore. Violet shivers with a sudden gust of wind, then shrugs it off with impatience, like she doesn’t have time for that bullshit.
“Running,” I tell her, just before I swish my stick through the air. She easily deflects the blow, then throws her weight into sending another one my way.
“I’m not running.”
“The hell you aren’t.” Thwack. My stick hits hers with a thud. “You lost your shit in there, then stormed off like a pouty teen.”
“You go to the target range, I come here. So shoot me.” She rolls her eyes, swivels, and strikes again. I deflect the cudgel.
“I just want to know why you ran.” I swing back at her.
She scowls at me, swings the bar, and nearly knocks me on my ass. “I. Did. Not!”
I deflect the blow, then toss her one of my own. She curses under her breath, stumbling with the effort of deflecting. “Oh for fuck’s sake,” she growls when she falls to one knee. She’s down long enough for me to set her off balance with another whack of my stick on hers. She ducks, and seconds later I’ve got her pinned beneath me, the cudgels forgotten. Her wrists are in my grip, and her furious gaze is pinned on me.
“My, my, my,” I tease her. “You’re in an interesting situation, now, aren’t you? In fact… I do believe this is almost familiar. Do you feel déjà vu or is it just me?”
“Get fucking off me,” she says uselessly, still pinned in my grip. I’m so much heavier than she is, it’s almost unfair how easily I pin her.
“You promised, Violet.”
She wilts a little, the smallest flicker of fire dying down in her eyes. “I made several promises to you, Mr. Master,” she says through gritted teeth. “But you made promises as well.”
Ahh. So now we’re getting somewhere.
“So this is about promises.”
She holds my gaze, her jaw clenched. “Yes.”
“Tell me, Violet. Tell me the promises we’ve made each other.”
My heart feels like it’s been stabbed when her eyes water. Violet only cries when she’s angry, and now she’s fucking furious. I hate that it’s come to this. A part of me wants to hold her to me, kiss the tears away, and promise I’ll make it better. And another part of me wants to toss her over my lap and spank her until she cries real tears, for being so goddamned infuriating and stubborn.
“I… I promised I’d never try to fight you again,” she says, somewhat abashed. One could easily argue she was trying right now.
“Right. We work together. As a team,” I say pointedly. “What promise did I make you when we found Skylar together?”
Her eyes flit away from mine, but I grab her chin and force her gaze back to me.
She blinks, a steely note coming back to her voice. “You promised me you’d find my parents’ murderer.”