Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 149(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 149(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
I wanted to know everything. I wanted to be everything to her. I wanted it all.
I followed her at a distance as she walked across the parking lot, those high heels clicking as she looked around warily. Good girl. She was keeping an eye out and staying under the lights. She moved swiftly and alertly. A little thing like her had to be careful, especially looking the way she did.
I almost smiled as she approached her car. I was right. She drove a hatchback. But my smile turned into a frown as she climbed into a beat-up old car. I noticed she was limping a bit. I was furious all over again as I saw her sit down, the cracks in her brittle shell beginning to show. What did it cost her to pretend like that?
She rested her face in her hands for a moment. But only a moment.
I watched as she opened her eyes, looking around quickly to make sure no one had seen her. Doc nodded to me as he climbed on his ride and waited for her to pull out.
I swallowed as they drove away. It almost hurt to let her leave. But this wasn’t the end. It couldn’t be.
Either way, I knew I would be getting to know her a whole lot better soon. I wanted to help her. I wanted to hold her close and keep her safe. But more than anything, I wanted to be worthy of her.
And that last thing would take a goddamn miracle.
Chapter One
Jaken
“You ready for this?”
“Give it to me straight.”
Vice grinned as Trace slid a folder across the desk.
“You’re gonna love this. She’s ripe for the plucking.”
“He won’t love it,” Cain said calmly. Trace gave him a look that said he agreed with the big man. I ignored all three of them. I only had eyes for her.
The folder was full of pictures of her. Her name was printed neatly across the top of each image. Each shatteringly beautiful picture.
Colleen.
Of course that was her name.
My grandmother had been called Colleen. She was one of the strongest women I knew. It felt like a signpost, like a message from beyond the veil. Like Nan was reaching out and smacking me upside the head and telling me to get my life together.
To be worthy of her namesake.
The good lord knew I had a long way to go for that.
My grandmother had done more than raise me. She’d made me into the man I was today. Heaven above knew my mother hadn’t taken much interest in the job after my father passed away. She’d wanted me to risk life and limb in the senseless war that had plagued our country for so long. The streets had all run with blood at one time or another.
Nan had taught me that there was good in everyone and to try and see that. But also to look out for the bad. To listen to your heart and follow your dreams. But to trust your gut.
My gut was the reason I was in my current state of affairs. In the wind, so to speak. If my lizard brain hadn’t alerted me to the trouble about to go down, I wouldn’t have stopped it.
And my fingerprints would not have been found at the scene of the crime.
It was too bad that Nan hadn’t been able to do shite with my baby brother. But that was a different story. Or maybe it wasn’t. I was still looking out for the little bastard, even after all these years. My relationship with Brian was the reason I knew I wasn’t good enough for a girl like Colleen.
A man on the run from the law would never be good enough for the likes of her. Not even close. Even if I had angel wings and a halo.
But she was the one who looked like an angel . . .
I thumbed through some photos of her. She was unguarded in most of them. Not like she was at work. She looked sad. Pensive.
I turned to the first page of the report and it became clear why.
I leaned forward, reading with a sinking feeling yet respect and awe for the woman I’d set my sights on.
The eldest of six, Colleen and her siblings had lost their mother young. She’d picked up the slack, raising all five kids singlehandedly. Their father was a drunk who came and went from the trailer they lived in, and prison, at regular intervals.
Colleen didn’t let that stop her. She’d gone to court for custody of the kids at the tender age of sixteen, emancipated herself, and proven that she could take care of them. As soon as she could, she moved them all to a modest rental home on the outskirts of town where they lived what looked like a wholesome life.