Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Silent tears wet my chest.
“How am I safe? Living like this is impossible.”
I don’t answer her. I can’t. Words are impossible right now.
Her soft breaths even out, letting me know that she’s fallen asleep.
My heart aches as it comes apart in my chest. I can’t keep her. She was never mine to possess. Now that the heat is off her with the fire in Andover, I have no sane reason to keep her here.
I close my eyes, resigned with knowing I have to let her go, and that sucks because I didn’t start living until she walked into this clubhouse.
Happiness isn’t a possibility for a monster like me.
Better to let her leave before she discovers just how deep my evil roots actually go.
Chapter 36
Candi
I could sleep all damn day, but the throbbing in my head forces my eyes open only to squint again at the bright sun filtering into the room.
“Why is it so fucking bright in here,” I grumble.
Aside from my rumpled self, the bed is empty. I’m not surprised. Leaving me alone seems to be Lynch’s thing. Heaven fucking forbid I wake up in his arms, lips touching the top of my head as he repeats the things he said last night while I’m sober. I can’t remember the specifics, but I know he was sweet, attentive, and there for me when I was too intoxicated to help myself.
I wince as I roll out of bed. My stomach muscles are tight, no doubt from the heaving I did in front of him last night. Cringing at the memory, I stumble into the bathroom, stripping out of his shirt and climbing right back into the shower. He’s not here to wash me. His hands aren’t gliding over my soap-covered skin, and it makes me miss his touch. It makes me feel a lot of things I shouldn’t even consider, like why I continue to gravitate toward him when all he does is shove me away.
In an effort to shove all of that shit down where it belongs, I rush through my shower and dry off just as fast. Putting my clothes from last night back on is less than ideal, but I’ll be damned if I walk out of here in something belonging to him. I hold my head high as I open the door into the hallway and make my way toward the back door. The walk of shame was made for whores, and since that’s exactly how I feel even though I didn’t sleep with Lynch last night, I own it.
I only make it to the kitchen before rough hands grab me from behind.
I scream, genuinely terrified for the very first time since I arrived. I’d always wondered when one of Lynch’s men would snap and lose control over themselves. Seems like today is that day.
“What are you doing?” I ask, slightly relieved when my captor spins me around to face him. TJ is glaring down at me, but considering I’m Molly’s best friend, I doubt he’ll be the one to hurt me. That doubt begins to fade the second he opens his mouth.
“Prez wants you downstairs.”
My lips turn down. “There isn’t a downstairs.”
A sinister smile paints his lips, and I know immediately what he’s talking about.
The basement.
I’ve heard whispers about that damn place, and it’s nowhere I want to be. My heart races in a frantic tattoo as my fight or flight kicks in. Anticipating my attempt to escape, TJ clutches me tighter, a low rumble emitting from his throat. It sounds like a warning, or maybe a challenge like he’d love nothing better than to give chase if I bolt from him.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks instead, never giving me the opportunity to slip away.
The barely controlled rage and evil in his voice is a contradiction to the TJ I thought I knew. The man who kisses his sister’s temple each time he sees her, the man who jokes incessantly, like life is nothing more than a playground is nowhere to be found. He’s been replaced with a man that haunts every woman’s nightmares, the man women run from before they can even see him, as if his evil presence can be felt from miles away.
“I don’t w-want to go down t-there.” My eyes plead with him to let me go as a million scenarios fog my brain. “Tell Lynch to come up here.”
“Oh, Sweet-Tart.” His punishing grip releases one arm so his fingers can brush my damp hair from the side of my face. “Your blood on his hands will kill him.”
He looks into my eyes, searching them as if there’s something I can say, something I can confess that will change the direction things are going.
“There’s nothing worse than betrayal.” He sighs, resigned as he turns me in the direction of the back door. I continue to fight him as he walks us to the door and outside. “We always knew a piece of pussy would make this club fall. We just never thought it would happen so soon.”