Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
“I’m still here,” I pointed out. “Those men are dead and rotting upstairs and are no longer our concern. You should worry about Marcello’s life, not me.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, baby girl.” His fingers slipped beneath my chin, tilting my head until our eyes met. “I always worry about you, even when we’re apart. You are my one constant. My number one priority.”
“Yeah, right?” I snorted. “When have you ever put me first?”
“Always,” he challenged with heat behind his words. “I may not be there physically, but I’m always watching you.”
“Because you’re a psychopath,” I snapped. “Not because you care about me.”
“You want a choice between us,” he grumbled. “Don’t you? If he lives…”
“Luca,” I groaned. “This is not the time for this conversation.”
“I need to know,” he challenged. “Help me understand why you care so much about my brother when you didn’t give a shit about me last year.”
He must have taken the stabbing a lot harder than he let on. I could see the hurt in his blue eyes that looked like denim they were so dark. His eyes changed colors with his moods. It was creepy but also beautiful.
“Luca,” Drake interrupted, raking a hand through his dark hair that looked like he’d yanked on the ends. “Alex is right. We could lose Marcello. If he dies, it won’t matter if Alex likes him.”
“Fuck you, Battle.”
He yelled loud enough to draw the attention of the local members of The Devil’s Knights. A few guys I didn’t recognize lifted their heads, staring at us from across the room. Damian and Bastian moved to Luca’s right side like planets orbiting the sun, while Sonny and Cole Marshall stood beside Drake.
Luca’s nostrils flared as he shoved Drake with all of his force. “Get the fuck out of my house! I don’t need your opinion.”
Drake stumbled backward, and Sonny was there to grab his arm.
Caught in the middle, I pushed my arms out to keep them apart. “You’re not fighting.”
“No one is fighting,” Sonny interjected as he moved to my side.
“And no one is leaving this house,” Drake said with his fiery gaze aimed at a wild and out of his mind Luca.
“Agreed,” I added. “If you have a problem with Drake, then you can go.”
Luca’s jaw tightened.
“Whatever you want to say,” I said to Luca. “Save it. We’re all upset about Marcello. You’re only making it worse.”
He studied my face for a moment, a nasty snarl gracing his full lips. Then he shook his head, storming off with Bastian and Damian in tow. They strolled across the open room toward their father.
I stayed with Sonny, Drake, and Cole, the oldest of the Marshall boys. He was a Founder, an old-money military family that lived in a fortress beside the Battles.
“He’ll get over it.” Sonny slid his arm behind my back and pulled me into his chest. “He’s just jealous.”
“He’s never been jealous of Marcello a day in his life. It must be the stress getting to him.”
“No, you’re getting to him,” Drake said with certainty in his tone. “If you choose Marcello over Luca, it will get worse.”
“Marcello is fighting for his life right now,” I pointed out. “That’s all any of us should care about.”
Sonny tapped his fingers on my hipbone, and I melted into his warm embrace. “Marcello is indestructible,” he assured me. “That crazy motherfucker can’t die. Even the Devil himself couldn’t kill him.”
“I hope so,” I breathed.
“He’s right,” Cole offered, giving me an adorable smile that made the dimple in his cheek pop. “Marcello is like a real-life GI Joe. He can withstand just about anything.”
I laughed at his reference because I often thought of Marcello as my hero. Whenever I needed him, he was always there to save the day.
Drake extended his hand to me. “Let me help you take your mind off things.”
I smiled at his kind offer and slipped my fingers between his. Drake hummed a tune as he led me to the center of the ballroom, far away from the beeping monitors and distress sounds. He lifted me by my hips and set my bare feet on top of his dress shoes, just like when we danced at the Midsummer Night’s Dream party.
Still dressed in my pajamas, I wrapped my arms around his neck, and his hands moved to my hips. The hammering in my chest steadied to a semi-normal beat as he spun me around the floor, helping me block out all the painful shit. When the monitors beeped louder, he hummed a familiar tune.
I laid my head on Drake’s chest. He smelled like cloves mixed with something spicy, and I drank in his delicious scent. Tears spilled from my eyes and onto his shirt. Drake massaged my scalp with his long fingers, so gentle and loving, unlike Luca. How did the Knights know how to comfort me? Each of them had a way of calming me down.