Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 114647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 573(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 573(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
I’d even managed to be professional, withholding every single curse word and bad name I had in my vocabulary. I could feel James eyes on me as I typed, but I was so furious, that if I didn’t get it all out and write it all down, that I just might tear someone a new one.
Twenty minutes, and a five page letter to the editor later, I was exhausted, and near tears. How could someone write something so awful?
“You okay?” James rumbled from across the room.
I looked up, and lost it.
I was enfolded into his arms shortly after, and he held me while I cried. “H-how could someone say something so awful?”
He didn’t answer.
“S-she didn’t ask for that. She had such a hard life, and she really turned herself around. She would’ve never purposefully set fire to her apartment and killed herself.” I sobbed.
He still didn’t say anything, and I didn’t expect him to. He knew Lyle and Nadia’s story. He knew just as well as I did what had happened to her, how traumatized she was. And to think that some reporter thought that just because she’d lived in a halfway house, and was out in a dark alley the night she was raped, that she was asking for it, sickened me.
Steeling myself, I stiffened my spine, pulled away from James’ safe arms, and dashed the remnants of my tears away from my face. “I’m going to get that reporter fired. She’ll be lucky to work as a freakin’ janitor by the time I get through with her.”
James smile was quick and hard. “I like the way you think.”
“God I could kill her with my own bare hands.” I fumed as I stood and paced, contemplating the way my Doc Martin boots would look against the woman’s face.
“How about we head to Free? Work off some of that pissed off energy?” James offered.
“I like how you think, J.” I smiled brightly at him.
His answering smile warmed me to the tip of my toes.
Chapter 18
How to tell a woman is mad at you: 1. She’s silent. 2. She’s yelling. 3. She said ‘whatever’ 4. She acts the same. 5. She acts different. 6. She murdered you.
-Men’s guide to women
James
I winced as Sam dropped Shiloh back to the ground. For the fourth time.
“You’re not listening. I told you not to drop your shoulder. When you drop it, you lose that extra push that will let you throw your elbow back. Go out, not down.” Sam explained patiently.
I’d tried to tell her that myself, more than once, but she was stubborn. Even worse than my sister, in fact. I’d given up the instructing to Sam’s impeccable patience, and waited for the fireworks to start.
“If you weren’t so god forsaken big, I wouldn’t have to worry about dropping my shoulder. You’d be lying at my feet, crying about the loss of your future children. Instead, my elbow just hits a granite slab you call abs, and hurts me instead of you.” Shiloh stomped her foot for emphasis.
“You think that they’ll go easy on you? Let me tell you a secret. They won’t.” Sam snapped.
Shiloh’s face darkened, and she made a ‘come on’ gesture with her hands. Sam’s eyes narrowed, and the tick in his cheek gave away his annoyance with his baby sister.
I, however, found it hilarious. It was nice to see the big man off his game. It wasn’t all the time that you got to see the almighty captain lose it in front of everyone.
“Again.” Sam snapped.
Shiloh did as instructed, and even managed to initiate the original move, but Sam’s bulk overpowered her once again.
“What’s the damn point of this move again?” Shiloh growled from the ground lying flat on her back.
The door to the room clicked open, and my eyes drew from the blue mats towards the seats in the corner of the room. Everyone was there, watching the show.
“You’re being a baby. You’re lucky I’m such a good man. I’m going easy on you.” Sam said as he offered her his hand.
Taking a sip of my Gatorade, I promptly spewed the contents onto the ground in front of me.
“Shut up. You’ll never be the man your mother is.”
The bellow of laughter that threatened to burst free from me was smothered when Sam threw Shiloh to the mat, yet again. She hit the hard floor with a thump, and she groaned.
Once Sam helped her up, she shuffled over to me and snatched the drink out of my hand. She gulped down the contents of the drink, and then thrust the empty bottle back into my hands before turning and staring at her brother with her hands on her hips.
Sidling up to Shiloh, I gave her a sharp smack on the ass, and then walked towards Sam. “She’s pretty good if she could get over the anger.”
He nodded in agreement, checked his watch, and then grimaced. “I have to go get Cheyenne from work. I’ll see you at your place for dinner.”
With that he left, and Shiloh glared at him the entire way.
“Let’s go, Speedy.” I called to her and gestured with my finger to where I wanted her.
She came slowly, only wincing every other step.
I’d used her hard right before we came here, and I felt sorry that I made her do this now. “If you’re too sore, we can leave.” I offered.
Her eyes narrowed. “Did I say I was too sore?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“Then show me how to defend myself.” She harrumphed.
Thirty exhausting minutes later, we were still in the same place we were earlier, only I was the one losing my patience. Shiloh was sitting on her ass, glaring at me. We’d long ago lost our audience since Shiloh’s attitude only went from bad to horrid. After the third snicker from the peanut gallery, I’d kicked them out.
“What’s the problem, Shiloh?” I asked, exasperated.
She pursed her lips, but at my pointed look, she finally explained.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
I rolled my eyes. “You couldn’t hurt me even if you tried.”