Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
He doesn’t know I’m here yet, and I wonder how much he’s actually had to drink. Mason spots me, and he taps Milo’s shoulder, making him raise his head. And before I can move another inch, he swings around on his stool, and those fucking eyes meet mine.
It takes him a moment to register that I’m really standing here. Everyone has gone quiet. You can hear the fire crackling not too far from where we are while people breathe heavily, unsure of what to expect.
He stands and has to steady himself against the stool. I guess I have my answer—he’s had way more to drink than expected.
Mason goes to touch his shoulder, but Milo shrugs him off, pushing him away as he makes his way over to me. I smell the whiskey on his breath first, but not long after, I smell the familiar sandalwood and the leather that rubs off on his skin. He has anger in his eyes as he stares at me. Pure hatred. It almost makes me step away. Almost.
“Pretty Lady.”
“Do you drink like this often?”
“Fuck you,” he seethes. Now, I do take a step back. He throws his head back, and an evil laugh escapes him. “You should be scared, Pretty Lady. I’m a bad, bad man—”
“Prez.” Morris steps up and throws an arm around his shoulder as he looks at me. “You should leave, Lissie.”
A part of me thinks I should, while the other wants to know why he hates me so much right now.
“I’m going to kill him,” he says to me.
“Who?” I ask, taken aback, but then realize who he’s talking about.
“Lissie, please go,” Morris insists.
I step up to Milo and place my hands on either side of his face.
“You fell for a fucking loser. You love a man who doesn’t deserve you,” he says.
“It’s not him I love,” I spit back.
His eyes go wild, and he leans in. “And it’s not my fucking fault I’m falling for a fucking married woman whose husband I plan to kill.”
“I’m going, but only because you’re drunk and mean right now.” I drop my hands and step back. “Find me when you’re neither,” I say, walking off.
He doesn’t say another word.
Chapter 42
Milo
“Fuck.”
Iwas one thing I never thought I would be to her—mean.
To everyone else, yes.
It fucking pained me to do it.
But I need her to hate me, so she leaves and never comes back.
This fucking place is exactly what I said it was—a shithole.
She is way too good for this town.
So if I have to be mean to get her to leave, I will fucking become a monster. I will channel every dark and ruthless part of me, sacrificing my own peace to ensure she stays away. If that’s what it takes to protect her, I’ll embrace the role, no matter the damn cost.
I tossed and turned all night, and when I finally woke up, I drove straight to Letti’s and let myself in. And now I stand over Elizabeth as she sleeps.
“Milo?” she says groggily, knowing it’s me. She sits up and rubs her eyes.
“You’ll listen, and I will leave, then you will leave,” I tell her.
“Stop presuming you know what I’ll do,” she shoots back.
I shake my head. “Trust me, you will leave.” Scrubbing a hand down my face, I continue, “I kind of never knew how to take you… or want you,” I confess. “To me, you were always his wife…” My words trail off. “I started to notice you more and more, and then you started reading to me.” I grind my jaw. “You were always too good for him, for this place.” Her eyes soften at my words. “When you left, I was glad,” I tell her. “It meant that he lost you when he never deserved you in the first place. No one really deserves you, Pretty Lady. You are above us all. You see things and are hella smart. Too smart for this town, that’s for sure. While some of us will be stuck here forever, you got out.”
“I’m here now,” she says.
“And I hate that you are,” I say with a groan. “I have your husband. I’ve had him locked away for the last six months. Once you sign those papers, I will kill him.”
Her eyes go wide with shock. “Milo…”
“I also have the recordings of your sister that he was going to send out.”
“Milo, please let him out. Wherever you have him, please,” she begs.
“Do you love him?” I ask.
“No, of course I don’t. But I don’t wish him dead either.”
“He wishes you were dead,” I tell her. The number of times I have tortured that fucking dick because of the things he says about her, and it makes no difference. He still wants her dead.
“That’s fine. One of us can always be the bad guy.” She gets out of bed and stands in front of me.