Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“She’s dead.” Ren’s voice cuts through the noise in my head. “Rebecca. She’s gone.”
I can’t stifle a gasp. “Did you…?”
“I wish. But she’s gone. That’s what matters.” He touches his lips to the top of my head before heaving a sigh. Being so close to him, I feel the way he changes. His posture stiffens, his shoulders roll back, and when I look up at him, he’s looking at Dad. “Thank you for letting me be a part of that,” he grunts, nodding. “I guess I’ll head back down to my cell now.”
My chest aches at the thought. With my arms still around Ren’s waist, I look at Dad, hoping he’ll be reasonable. Ren took a bullet for Q. What else does he need to do to prove himself?
Dad must see this, too, because he shakes his head. “No. You can take one of the rooms upstairs instead.”
My heart’s going to burst. I don’t want to show that, though, in case Dad has second thoughts once he sees how excited I am. “Come on,” I murmur, letting go of Ren only long enough to take him by the hand. “Is there anything you need? Where did you get hit?”
“My side.” He touches a hand to his right ribs, but shakes his head when I make a sympathetic noise. “It’s nothing. I mean, it hurt like I got kicked hard when it first happened and it knocked the wind out of me, but it’s a hell of a lot better than what would’ve happened if it wasn’t for the vest. Don’t worry,” he insists.
“Easy for you to say.” He’s not the one who almost lost the most important person in his world today. If he had died, it would have been for Q. I wonder if this is finally enough to make my brother understand Ren was not acting out of malice when he did what he did. Otherwise, what will it take to make him come around? I don’t even want to think about it. It’s enough for now that Dad is even letting Ren upstairs. It’s progress. I’m going to choose to be happy about that rather than wanting more.
“Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat from the kitchen before we go up?” When our eyes meet, it’s like I’ve finally heard myself. What am I doing, offering him food when this is our first time together with him outside his cell? There are more important things to focus on right now.
It’s obvious when his nostrils flare, and he growls softly, that he’s thinking the same thing. Instead of going to the kitchen or anywhere else, I lead him up the wide staircase and into the east wing where the guest rooms sit. Choosing one at random, I open the door and find the room already arranged—fresh linens on the king size bed, not a speck of dust anywhere, and the ensuite bathroom will be stocked with clean towels. Mom likes to keep the guest rooms ready for visitors, since there’s never any knowing for sure when an unexpected guest will show up. Especially at a time like this, with Roman and Sophie and Luna already staying with us.
It’s not them I’m thinking about as Ren steps into the room. I don’t care about anybody but the two of us as I close the door behind me and lean against it, breathless and aching, longing to touch him, to prove to myself that he’s real. He’s alive, they didn’t hurt him.
He turns away from the bed to look at me, and all it takes is the briefest eye contact for my body to respond with an intensity that leaves me trembling. But as much as I want to reach out and touch him, I’m frozen in place, overwhelmed by my longing. I could’ve lost him.
He crosses the room in two long strides, not saying a word before burying his hands in my hair. He crashes against me and covers my mouth before I can make a sound. That’s all it takes to unlock everything I’ve been holding back. All the loneliness, all my need—everything. I pour all of it into him, drinking in his kisses and his touch until I could cry with relief and joy. I’m back where I belong. Pinned against the door with his unyielding body holding me in place, and my ecstatic cries muffled by his mouth. He kisses me deeply, growling as he does, consumed the same way I am. He rolls his hips and drives his hardening dick against me and tears of relief squeeze their way from between my lashes, rolling down my cheeks and wetting his face.
He feels them and breaks the kiss, his eyes darting over my face. “Are you all right?” he whispers, breathing hard.
“Kiss me,” I beg, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck and pulling him down. I’m too greedy for his kiss and his touch to explain. We can talk later. Right now, this is all that matters.