Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 160578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 803(@200wpm)___ 642(@250wpm)___ 535(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 803(@200wpm)___ 642(@250wpm)___ 535(@300wpm)
I lower my glass to the table. “I shouldn’t be here.”
Her smile drops. “Look.” She rests her hands on my shoulders, moving closer until her forehead rests against mine. “I get it. With yours and the Mad Prince’s history, but you’re free now. You’re out of his psychotic grip. You can leave whenever you want. Just not right now.”
I laugh, the tension in my neck releasing. “Fine!” My laughter stops when the familiar weight of his attention holds me in place. My smile slips. The beating of my heart pounds louder than the music when I see him.
Sitting in the same spot he was in all those years ago, his black T-shirt stretches over his muscles, but not in a way that looks tight, only that he’s too big. His black hair is a mess, and his dark gaze holds me hostage, refusing to let go. Crimson-colored fingernails brush through the strands of his hair, and I force myself out of his invisible hold by breaking eye contact. I need to see who it is that's touching him.
Tanned, long legs barely covered by a tiny, white skirt. Her lace top hardly covers what the leather jacket doesn’t.
She moves to his side, skimming her lips over his jaw and whispering something into his ear.
River’s disgust is loud when she shoots back her drink, her fingers forcing my attention to her. “Don’t even stress that. I wish I could say that it’s Aunty Madison’s new way of trying to see if her son really is a sociopathic lunatic by loaning—yes, loaning—a family friend, but that isn’t it. What it is, though…is something that you…” She taps the tip of my nose with her finger. “Do not have to worry about.”
When I don’t answer, she rolls her eyes and rests her glass on her lap. “You and I both know she won’t last. Though I am intrigued to see how long this one will since the last one barely made it past the first meeting.”
I shrug. “It doesn’t bother me.” My heart rate drops low enough to flatline.
“Good! Because—” The lights cut, leaving us in darkness and the sound of Lily-Rose Depp singing about not being one of his girls. I fumble across the counter to find my phone.
“Ugh!” River growls, sliding off the bar and landing in front of me. I direct the weak light of my phone screen toward her. “I’ll be right back. It’s a fuse issue and since I’m guessing the boys are distracted!” She waves her hand in the air and bellows, “I’ll do it, I’ll do it!” Slowing her steps, she turns over her shoulder at the last minute, flashing me a lazy smirk before disappearing through the darkness.
I exhale, resting my head against the cabinet. What was that about, and why did she look so damn smug.
Tequila burns its way down my throat as the talons of a dark shadow form around me. I could feel him in any room, in any lifetime. Even in barely any light, it’s ridiculous hot he is. I hate that. I hate that the worst person I know is also the most interesting to look at.
He stops, his mouth set in a straight line. He’s mad.
With sharp cheekbones and eyes that tear through your soul, his beautiful exterior is merely a shield to the many layers that mold Priest Hayes. I wouldn’t know how to peel them back. Even if I did, I’m not sure I’d want to. The thought kind of scares me. Which is probably what he wants.
His head tilts, allowing me to glimpse the tattoo that curls from the back of his neck. “Go upstairs.”
“What?” I slide my now empty glass toward the sink, crossing my arms in front of myself. It’s bad enough he’s within arm’s length. He can’t come any closer. “Why?” It’s not the time that's passed between us, because it never feels like it does when it’s him and I, but because even after all this time, he still thinks he can throw orders around and I’ll listen.
I hiss at the connection of his fingers curling around my chin as he forces my head back. I don’t like this angle. Now he has direct access to my soul.
His brows drop inward as his frown deepens, but then he grabs me by the arm and forces me through the main foyer. If he wants to do something, he’s going to do it. I learned that a long time ago.
We haven’t even reached the stairs when the lights flicker back on, exposing the familiar sense of being watched. It doesn’t take long for me to find her. The redhead from earlier who had her hands on Priest. She watches me with cool regard. It appears desperate since it’s obvious she’s talking herself into not reacting.
She sees a girl with her hair half tied back in a ribbon, innocent black stockings, Docs, and an oversized knit sweater, and thinks…huh. She’s not his type.