Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 52260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
“Fuckity fuck fuck fuck,” I chanted, grabbing the phone to pull up the calendar app to count back days to my last period. I repeated the action three times without the result changing before my head dropped in my hands.
“Thirteen,” I sighed. “Of course it had to be thirteen.”
Smack dab in the middle of my cycle, right when I was most likely to get pregnant. Awesome. And the ringing of my cell phone was even more awesome.
“Shit, fuck, damn,” I muttered, stabbing my finger on the green button before the sound woke Brandon up. I wasn’t exactly ready to face him yet.
“Where the fuck are you, Carly?”
Oh, great. Tommy already sounded pissed the hell off at me. This conversation was going to go so well—not.
“At Brandon DeLuca’s apartment.”
“You’re gonna have to repeat that for me because I must have heard you wrong. You couldn’t have possibly said what I think you did because that would mean not only did you come back to town after I told you your da is out for your blood, but that you decided it would be a good idea to leave your safety in the hands of a guy you motherfucking shot!”
“I’m pretty sure he’s forgiven me for that since he’s talking about us getting married.” I figured the ‘and might have already knocked me up’ part was better left unsaid.
“Fuck, Carly. You’ve got to be kidding me. How the hell did you let yourself get mixed up with Brandon DeLuca, of all people? The man’s a stone-cold killer.”
“The same could be said about you, Tommy,” I reminded him gently. I hated to do it, but as much as I loved my friend, I wasn’t about to let him judge Brandon by his reputation alone.
“But we both know I’d never hurt you.”
“Neither would Brandon.”
Shit! I’d been so focused on my conversation that I hadn’t heard Brandon enter the bathroom. I only realized he was there when he yanked the phone from my hand.
“Who the fuck is this?” he growled into it.
Oh shit. Brandon was going to hate the answer to his question. This was bad. No, correction, it was more like national catastrophe level on a scale of amazing to horrible.
“Thomas McKinnon? How convenient. I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”
Yup, I’d called it right because Brandon looked like he was a nuclear explosion in the making. His voice was deceptively soft because his dark eyes were narrowed and lit with fury. His cheeks were flushed red, and his lips were pursed. The way his muscles were coiled tight made it seem as though he was ready to jump through the phone to attack Tommy. And considering the bomb I’d just dropped on my childhood friend, I figured he’d have a fight on his hands if he did.
Brandon stalked out of the room, taking the phone with him. I cleaned up as quickly as I could and followed after him. Snagging the shirt he’d worn the day before, I pulled it over my head and padded into the kitchen, where I found him making coffee and snarling at Tommy over the phone.
“I don’t give a flying fuck who you’ve been to her in the past, or how helpful your information is when it comes to finding Pat. Carly is mine now. I don’t know you, don’t trust you. There isn’t a chance in hell I’m gonna let some guy I don’t trust anywhere near my woman.”
I rushed forward and tried to tug the phone from his hands, determined to stop this conversation in its tracks. Brandon wasn’t having any of it, though. He shackled both of my hands in one of his own and held me in place while he continued to talk to Tommy.
“Yeah, if your tip results in his capture, I might consider letting you see her.”
I huffed up at him, narrowing my eyes. Brandon just shook his head and smiled at me like I was being cute or something.
“Don’t bother using this number again. You need something, you call me.” He rattled off his number and disconnected the call without saying goodbye. Hopefully, Tommy had gotten all the digits right because Brandon dropped my phone on the ground, grabbed a pot from the rack above the kitchen island, and smashed it.
“I can’t believe you did that!” Actually, I kind of could, but I wasn’t about to admit it to him.
He shrugged his shoulders. “You didn’t need it anymore.”
“But what if I need to call someone?”
“Use mine.”
“What if someone needs to call me?”
“You and I both know McKinnon was the only one who had that number. Now he has mine.” Stupid logic.
“But—” I sputtered. I wasn’t sure what I was even going to say next. It didn’t matter anyway because Brandon didn’t give me the chance. He picked me up and set me on the counter, stepping between my legs and pulling me tight against his body.