Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
He was going to leave. I’d done it. I had convinced him to go. We were going to be able to get away from here. From him.
So, why did it feel like he’d just slapped me? Because he wasn’t fighting to protect me.
He wasn’t protecting you, Briar. He was making sure you weren’t hiding Roger.
This was never about him caring about you. He’d made you think that, or you’d let your head go there. You’d wanted it.
“You leaving now?” I snapped.
He studied me for a moment, and I thought I saw something there … something that said this was about me. He was worried about me. He cared.
Then, he stepped around me and headed for the door. I didn’t turn to watch him leave. I closed my eyes when the door clicked shut. He’d left, and I realized just how stupid I had been. I’d come so close to letting him in. Never had that happened. I’d never even been tempted. But that man, he was dangerous. A danger I couldn’t allow.
After I was sure I’d gotten my emotions under control, I headed to let Dovie know it was time to pack. I hated leaving like this. Pepper deserved more from me, but I wasn’t in the position to be a good person. Maybe she wouldn’t hate me.
• Twenty-One •
“She’s not a prisoner in her apartment.”
Storm
“Not that I don’t want you here, but … why are you here exactly?” Wilder asked me as he handed me a beer before taking the seat across from me in the living room at his house in Ocala, where he lived with his wife and daughter.
Wilder had grown up in Madison with us, and his dad was still there, but Wilder had been moved to the main family branch, working directly for Blaise Hughes.
I took a long drink from the bottle. I needed to talk, and there was no one back home I could talk to about this. Hell, I wasn’t even sure what to talk about. It wasn’t like talking was going to fix shit. I wasn’t about to admit to Wilder what I’d done. Where my head had gone with this woman. Thinking about her, I pulled out my phone and glanced at the location of Briar and her car to make sure she was still at her apartment. I’d checked at least a hundred times since I’d walked out of there earlier.
Angry at her, at myself, at the whole fucking situation, I’d gotten in my Jeep, determined I was leaving. Headed north as fast as I could, but I’d only made it to Ocala before realizing I couldn’t leave. Not if she was being tracked by someone other than us. If she was fucked up with some shit that was going to get her in trouble with King, I needed to know. The knowledge that I’d protect her against my own was a little more than I was ready to admit aloud.
“It’s complicated,” I finally said.
Wilder looked amused as he leaned back on the sofa. “So, this is about a woman. Thatcher was right.”
“Thatcher?” I asked, wondering what the hell he was talking about.
Wilder smirked and took a drink from his beer. “Yeah. Thatch called yesterday. Said you’d come south, chasing a woman. Told me to make sure you weren’t doing something stupid.”
Thatcher had already figured out where I was. This didn’t surprise me. However, his concern for my choices did. What did he know? I’d covered my tracks carefully, but if anyone was twisted enough to even go in the direction of my choices, it would be him.
“He didn’t give me all the details, but if this woman is lying to King, then you know it’s gonna be bad,” Wilder said.
I shook my head. “She’s lying about something, but it’s not Roger Ball. She killed him—or believes one hundred percent that she did.”
“But you don’t know what it is she’s lying about?”
I sighed. “Nope. Can’t figure it out.”
“But you care about her.” It wasn’t a question.
I shrugged. “Yeah. I mean, she’s the fucking hottest female I’ve ever seen. But she’s a gold digger. Her morals are shit. That should turn me off.” I shook my head. “But then she smiles at me or just looks in my direction, and I don’t give a fuck. I want her. All her immoral, lying, fucked-up parts.”
Wilder laughed as he took another drink.
“Nothing I said was funny,” I snapped.
It was a goddamn shit show. I was someone I didn’t even recognize anymore. The things she had me doing were fucked up.
“Yeah, it is,” he replied. “You’re talking about her morals like you’re not in the Mafia. A little high and mighty there, man, don’t you think?”
I scowled at him. “It’s not the same.”
But right now, he had no idea how spot-on he was. My morals had taken a complete nosedive into the pits of hell. I wasn’t sure I would recognize them if they slapped me across the face.