Series: The Moretti Crime Family Series by J.L. Beck
Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 111428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
“I’m sorry,” I murmur, not sure why I’m the one apologizing since this is definitely his fault. Maybe it’s just my basic survival instinct telling me to do everything I can to make him less angry. After all, anger is what got me into this situation to begin with. “I should have been more careful—”
“Stop. I don’t have the patience for this.” He sighs loudly, and I don’t want to look at him. Don’t want to see any more of his anger, which is burning out of control like a forest fire. “I have somewhere I need to be, and since I don’t want to come home to you dead in the cell, I’m going to have to take you with me. You’re no use to me if you aren’t alive.”
I drop my hand back down on the bed. “Gee, thanks.”
“Get up and get dressed. We’ve got to go,” he orders, ignoring my sarcasm.
Pushing my still very naked body into a sitting position, I let my legs dangle from the side of the bed. My head is already spinning, but I still plant my feet on the floor and stand up.
I regret that move immediately. Dizziness overcomes me, and the room starts turning around me. My knees go weak, and I reach out my arms to hold on to something. This time, I’m actually able to grab onto something.
I curl my fingers into the soft fabric of Markus’s shirt just as he grabs my hips to steady me.
“Fuck. Sit back down,” he commands, pushing me back down.
I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths, forcing the queasiness away. Markus briefly disappears into the walk-in closet, returning with a handful of clothes a moment later. I try to stand up again, but Markus shakes his head warningly.
“Don’t move.” Kneeling in front of me, he helps me into a pair of panties, leggings, and socks. Pushing himself off the floor, he continues helping me with the bra and shirt. His touch is gentle, almost careful, as if he is scared, he is going to break me on contact. It’s strange to see such a big man that you know is capable of great violence and destruction be kind. I’ve seen his worst. Am I now seeing his best?
When I’m dressed, he slides his arms under my body and tucks me against his chest. Instinctively, I throw my arms around his neck, clinging to him. He cradles me to his chest as we walk downstairs, and I can’t help but hug him even closer.
The scent of soap and man wafts into my nose, and I inhale a little deeper. I shouldn’t enjoy his scent or let it calm me, but I do.
Letting my head rest on his shoulder, I nuzzle my face into his chest, reminding myself he is only treating me like this because I’m injured. And I’m only acting like this because I hit my head. I don’t want him, and he doesn’t want me.
Whatever twisted attraction this is between us, it can only end one way… with me leaving him. As soon as I find what I need, I will leave and never see him again.
16
Markus
Every time I look at her, I feel a little more guilty than I did before. If it wasn’t for me rushing her, trying to get her into the basement faster, she wouldn’t have fallen.
Granted, she pissed me off with her defiant behavior, thinking she could tell me no—like she had a fucking choice. She made me want to take her against the shower wall without care, but I didn’t have to act out.
What if she had fallen and actually cracked her head open?
Yesterday she kissed me and now this. She finds a way to push me to my limits daily without even knowing it. Keeping her is starting to be more trouble than it’s worth.
“No shoes?” she asks as I carry her outside.
I did that on purpose. No shoes and she is less likely to make a run for it. Plus, it’s not as if I’m planning on letting her out of the car.
“You don’t need shoes. You’re going to keep your ass planted on the passenger seat the entire time we’re out, got it?”
“Got it,” she murmurs into my shirt.
Her slender arms are slung around me like I’m her life preserver. In a way, I guess I am. It’s fucked up, but I’m what’s keeping her alive. If anyone else had bought her…
I quickly shove the thought down before it has the chance to manifest into blinding rage. No one else touches her. Fallon is mine to touch and mine alone. I’ll kill anyone that touches her or tries to hurt her.
I deposit her into the passenger seat and watch her buckle up before closing the door and walking around the car. I keep my eyes trained on her the entire time, just in case she gets the crazy idea of taking off. It would be stupid on her part. She won’t get far, but if she did, she would only be hurting herself more.