Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 63702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
I just used the words bomb and dick in the same sentence, and I know my brain is going to torment me for that tomorrow.
Closing my eyes, I press my cheek against the window, exhaling.
My head is spinning, and darkness is slowly closing in on me.
Sleep time.
8
The drive home wasn’t enough for me to get anywhere close to sober.
In fact, by the time we arrive and I open my eyes, I’m still as drunk as I was when I climbed into this truck. It’s like my body is just refusing to release the alcohol. I am walking on my own now, so that’s something. Climbing out of the truck, I stare at the old house sitting there in the darkness. Chloe loved this place. She loved Colt. I just can’t seem to figure out what it was that made her give her entire soul to him.
She always told me it was love at first sight.
I remember her calling me the night she met him, telling me how she met this biker and he just swept her off her feet. How he was the last man she would have ever gone after, but she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Then, before I knew it, she was telling me she was hooked and was going to stay. It felt almost as if it happened overnight, but I can’t see the appeal.
Well.
I mean, I can see the appeal, but when he opens his mouth, it seems to fizzle out.
Movement catches my eye, and I turn toward the porch just as Colt gets out of the truck and closes the door.
There is someone here.
Judging by the way whoever it is launches themselves off the porch, he or she was not expecting me home.
“Oh. Hell no.”
My voice echoes through the night, and I drop my purse to the floor, leaning down and throwing my shoes off. They’re way too high for this. Then, with a determination I’ve never felt before, I charge. I go full throttle toward the dark figure rushing toward the darkness, trying to escape me.
“Not this time,” I yell, “you fucker.”
I don’t know how I’m running, let alone how I’m staying on my feet, but I manage to. I’m done with whoever is lurking around my place, leaving notes, and making my life hell. Not to mention, whoever this is, probably tormented my aunt, and I’m not about that. Tonight, it ends. Colt’s bellow somewhere behind me doesn’t slow me down. I sprint toward the dark figure who is charging down the driveway.
Wearing all black, I can’t see from behind if it’s a male or female, but the moment I catch up to them and slam my body into theirs, I know it’s a male. I know from the sheer muscle that my small frame comes up against. With a determined scream, I claw at anything I can, grabbing pieces of hair and clothes, kicking and punching as I desperately try to get hold of whoever this is.
But he’s too strong.
With an angry bellow, he throws me to the ground so hard my head slams backward onto the dirt road. My world spins as pain shoots through my skull. A whimper leaves my throat as the trees above me begin to dance in the moonlight. I bring my hands up to my face, trying to keep myself awake, but, slowly, I can feel my body trying to disappear on me.
The sound of boots crunching alerts me that Colt has caught up. A moment later, a flashlight lands on me, lying pathetically on the ground, the mystery man now long gone. He got away. I tried to stop him, but he got away. I’m so damned frustrated and angry, so much so I let out an angry yell which only makes my head hurt and my vision swim.
“God dammit,” I mutter into my hands, that I place over my face again. “I nearly had him.”
Silence above me.
Then Colt bursts out laughing.
It’s a sound I never thought I’d hear come from him, and it’s so startling that I move my hands and stare up at him in shock.
“Fuck me,” he grinds out between chuckles, “you’re fuckin’ crazy.”
Leaning down, he hauls me up as if I weigh nothing and holds me against his body, which is still shaking with laughter.
“I don’t know why you’re laughing,” I mumble as he walks me back down toward the house. “I nearly had him.”
“Do I dare fuckin’ ask what it was you planned on doin’ when you ‘got him’?”
“I was going to demand he tell me why the fuck he keeps coming around to my house and threatening me. Then, I was probably going to give him a touch up.”
“A touch up?”
“You know, a black eye, a busted lip, a reminder not to come here.”
His body shakes again. “Have you fuckin’ seen yourself? You’re four-foot nothin’, he dropped you like a sack of potatoes.”