Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 126096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Colton looks over his injuries in the mirror and I watch as his eyes scan over his body. He takes in his bruised jaw, his bloodied hand, the grazes, and red marks across his ribs. I watched him fight Spencer at school and he was amazing. He could even rival some of the Black Widows, so for him to end up looking like this, it must have been a bad fight. Maybe a few guys tried to jump him or the other guy had something over him. All I know is that for him to get injured this way, he wasn’t fighting with his head in the game.
His eyes come back to mine and there are so many emotions there—rage, pain, desperation, and hurt. Every one of them tear me apart and it confuses me more than anything I’ve ever known.
“Come on,” I say, trying to distract myself from the confusion clouding my mind. It must be a lack of sleep, otherwise, I’d be perfectly fine. I take his shoulders and push him back to sit on the edge of the marble counter. My fingers burn against his skin but I put it to the back of my mind. I’m surprised he’s allowed me to get this far and if he’s actually going to let me patch him up, then I need to concentrate.
Once he’s seated, I start going through all the cupboards and drawers until I find the first aid kit. Not wasting a second, I dump it down on the counter beside him and start rifling through it.
I start with his face and damn it, it’s so hard to concentrate.
Why do I want to kiss him so badly? I should be hating him. I should be curled up in my bed letting him suffer in here on his own. Instead, I’m being as gentle as I possibly can, hoping to God that his handsome face doesn’t scar.
The only noise that fills the bathroom is the sounds of me going back and forth to the first aid kit. He lets me concentrate and I’m grateful. My mind is already a mess of confusion. The last thing I need is his chatter to make it worse.
Once his face and hands are bandaged, I move down to his ribs. My fingers brush lightly over his skin and he sucks in a sharp breath. “Why are you doing this?” he murmurs, asking the very question that I haven’t been able to stop asking myself.
I shrug my shoulders, not having a proper answer for him. “Someone had to,” I tell him, refusing to meet his eyes. “And something tells me you’re the kind of guy who would have just gone straight to bed without giving this a second thought.”
A soft chuckle slips from between his lips and the sound pulls at something within me. “You might be right about that.”
“I’m right about a lot of things,” I fire back at him.
Colton’s lips pull into a tight line and I do my best to keep my concentration on his ribs, ignoring his strong abs and pecs that stare back at me, begging to be touched. “How’d you learn how to do this?” he questions, catching me off guard, though I can’t figure out why. It's a standard question, but it’s something personal, and Colton and I strictly don’t do personal … except for the other night in his room, but that was different.
“I have four best friends in a gang,” I say, choosing to entertain his question. “Knowing how to patch up dickheads with big egos is kind of a requirement.”
“Do they get in fights a lot?”
I nod, feeling a soft smile pulling across my lips. I’ve missed talking about them. “Kairo’s a loose cannon. He’s had a rough life and holds a lot of anger so if you even look at him wrong he’ll beat the shit out of you.”
“And Nic?” A flash of something appears behind his eyes but is gone before I have a chance to figure out what it means.
“Nic’s the smart one,” I tell him. “He’s the one you don’t want to cross. He’s calculating and deadly, and when it comes to protecting what’s his, there’s no standing in his way.”
“Is that supposed to be some kind of warning?”
I meet his heavy gaze and there’s so much there but I ignore it, unsure what any of it means. I shrug a shoulder and look back at Colton’s ribs. “Take it how you want.”
His voice is low, inquiring, and curious. “What’s the deal with you two?”
My walls shoot up. I don’t like this. Why does he want to know? Why does he need to know? I’m used to being the one who’s fishing for answers, not the other way around. Is this some kind of trick? Get me to open up and then use it against me in this ridiculous little war?