Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76809 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76809 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
But I wasn't thinking rationally.
All I could think of was that Chernev had boarded a flight to the U.S. a day ahead of me. And that there was only one thing in the States he wanted.
Melody.
I couldn't let him get her.
I had to do something.
I couldn't twiddle my fucking thumbs in my home while God-knew what was happening to her half the world away.
I had to get there.
I had to do something.
I had to protect my woman.
SIXTEEN
Miller
"Explain the logic of protecting your dick but not your head or chest," I said, as Bellamy walked into the safe house above the office holding one of the bulletproof vests from the first floor over his crotch.
"I'm too valuable for you to kill me, but I wouldn't put a castration above you," he said, giving me one of those smiles that made it easy to forget he drugged and kidnapped you.
"You know, a good insurance policy against getting your cock chopped off by an angry woman would be not being such a fucking dick," I suggested as he tossed the vest to the side, moving into the space.
I was on the couch in yoga pants and an oversize white hoodie Finn had loaned me after cleaning the space the day before. Even though it was already immaculate. I had a fluffy blanket Jules had brought me, and a coffee in my hands thanks to Kai.
Just a plain hot coffee.
Made the way I liked it, because Kai was Kai, which meant he remembered that kind of thing, but it wasn't what I wanted.
I wanted a frappe.
With chocolate syrup. And maybe a little caramel. But I wanted one made for me especially by Christopher.
Ugh.
Even days later, his name was like a knife to the gut.
No, that wasn't quite right.
I had once taken a knife to the gut.
That was bad.
This was worse.
This was like a knife to the gut, the blade being pulled out, and then having acid poured inside.
"I mean, but my dickishness is half my charm," Bellamy declared, dropping down on the couch beside me, taking up more room than he needed, like he so often did. Bellamy wasn't a fan of personal space. Of any sort of civil boundary, really. Yes, he was right; it was all part of his charm. But it didn't mean that when you were angry with him, it didn't bug the crap out of you.
"Can I ask you one thing, Bells?" I asked, gaze moving over to the TV which was stubbornly set on a big tiger documentary which wasn't really about big tigers at all, but a character study of increasingly bat shit crazy individuals. And, you know, letting the general public know which kind of oil to use if you wanted a tiger to eat a body. Which was likely useful to someone out there.
No more baking shows.
Because I'd shared them with Christopher.
No more action movies.
Because I'd shared them with Alexander.
And nothing romantic for very obvious reasons.
"How big it is?" he asked, drawing my attention back to him.
"How big what is?"
"My unmentionables," he clarified, eyes twinkling. "It's okay to ask. Don't be shy. It is natural to wonder. And fantasize..."
"You're not my type, Bells," I told him, but I felt my lips curving up, and that was the closest thing to a good mood I'd felt since Quin had shown up in Zagori to bring me home.
"I know," he agreed, the humor leaving his tone, his head nodding.
"Wait..." I said, feeling my body stiffen.
"Now she's starting to get it," he told me, lips quirking up, but mostly humorless.
"Did you set me up? I mean, not with just a job. But like... were you trying to set me up with Christopher?"
"What can I say? I saw something there."
"But... why?" I asked.
Bellamy was absolutely the sort of person to meddle. Everything he did made him butt his nose into your life. Even your relationships. He was the first one dragging you out on the town if he thought you hadn't gotten laid in too long.
This seemed different, though.
Unlike him.
"I had been starved for entertainment lately," he told me, hedging, only giving me a partial truth. I knew that move all too well. Clients tried to pull it all the time.
"And you thought fucking up my life would be fun?"
"Improving upon it, more like. Fucking it up is a bit dramatic, don't you think?"
"No, actually, I don't think. In fact, I know it isn't dramatic, because I am the one living through it."
"Come on, you had fun. Admit it."
"I was held against my will. I was cut off from the outside world. I was nearly killed."
"But you got to have Adamos rush in and save the day, all 'knight in shining armor' and such. That had to have been fun."
"Yes, activating a bit of my PTSD was a rip-roaring riot, Bells."