Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 87961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“Oh, so he’s actually a really nice guy, I just caught him on a bad day?”
His eyes dart to mine, and his lips press together.
“Didn’t think so.”
“Either way”—his look grows stern—“you need to rein it in around him. I hear you’ve already pissed him off after just a few hours. Not good, chick. He’s not known for his patience, and he’s got one hell of a temper.” His eyes flick to my neck, which I know has now blossomed into deep purple bruises, my own personal reminder of just how short-tempered Jude is.
“Yeah, I noticed,” I remark.
“Yes!” he shouts again, fist pumping as he grins at the TV.
I glance at the set and see a sea of purple and gold going nuts.
“Did they win?” I ask, because I really have no idea what is going on.
He grins at me. “I just doubled my bet and won ten grand.” He rolls off the bed. “That is what happens when you have a bookie for a brother!”
Odds, statistics. Of course. A bookie! Oh fuck. He’s legitimately a gambling mobster. Holy shit.
By the time the evening comes round I’m climbing the bloody walls. I’ve been pacing the small room for the past half hour.
“You want something to eat yet?” Caleb asks, stretching next to the door.
I furrow my brows. “No, I don’t want anything to eat. I want to go home!”
Ignoring my request, he sighs. “You’re gonna to have to eat something, or you're gonna get me in trouble. It’s been three days. You must be starving by now.”
I groan and go back to pacing at the end of the bed. I am not going to stay here like some fucked-up guest. I do not want to be here, and I’m sure as shit not eating their food like a good little prisoner. I’d sooner starve.
He huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. “Okay, fine. I’m going to go downstairs and get some food. I’ll bring you some in case you change your mind.”
He turns and walks out of the room, closing the door behind him. I hear the click as he locks it from the other side. Guest rooms my arse. What kind of guest room has a lock on the outside of the door? These rooms are just glorified prison cells.
As soon as he’s gone I scout the room, frantically searching through all the drawers, under the bed...there must be something in here that I can use as a weapon. I eye up the chair in the corner. Maybe I could smash it and snap a leg off or something. What the fuck? As if I’ll be strong enough to break a chair. Who do I think I am, the Incredible Hulk?
I eventually give up. There’s not a damn thing in here that can help me. I hear the lock turning again, and I look up to see Caleb walk through.
He’s carrying a plate with a sandwich on it. “Okay, last chance, Ria. You sure you’re not gonna eat?”
I glare at him. “No, thank you.”
He shrugs and moves to the side. I spot movement over his shoulder. Glancing around him, I find Jude standing in the doorway, bracing his hands on either side of the wooden frame above his head. His hands are gripping the frame so tightly that his biceps strain from the effort. The position makes his t-shirt lift slightly, revealing a strip of tanned skin above the waist of his jeans. I can see the deep-cut V-lines dipping into his jeans.
I tear my gaze away from his body and up to his face, which is set in a mask of cold indifference as he watches me watching him.
“I think you meant to say that you were gonna eat,” he says, his voice low and deep, rumbling over my senses and making my skin break out in goose bumps. His presence sends a shot of adrenaline through my veins as my instincts tell me to run, but there is nowhere to run.
“I’m not hungry,” I say quietly. I feel like there’s a bomb in the room and it’s about to go off at any minute. That bomb would be Jude. He has that scary calm thing going on, and it’s more terrifying than any shouting.
Jude laughs. His arms slip down the doorframe as he bows his head. Shaking it, he glances back up at me, his eyes narrowing as one corner of his full lips quirk up. “Wrong fucking answer!”
Oh, shit. I start backing up before he’s even moved from the doorway.
He steps forward, quickly closing the space between us as his eyes lock with mine.
“I didn’t ask if you were hungry.” He steps closer to me, until I can feel the heat of his body towering over me. “Let me clarify for you. You.” Another large step, and I edge backwards. “Are gonna.” Then another. “Eat!” He dips his head to meet my eyes. “Aren’t you?” I watch as he reaches back to Caleb’s plate and picks up the sandwich.