Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 62497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
I don’t know who sent them, but I have an idea since I was on a job.
And the only person, apart from my brother, who knew where I would be was Pops. And the way they moved reminded me of…us. It’s how we were trained—to be deathly quiet until it’s no longer necessary.
There were two of them, so at least I credit him for not sending only one. He knew better. But did he, though?
“Why are you still standing there? Get in the bed.” She walks over to it, her long hair in a bun.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
She huffs. “Work. Some of us have to.” She pulls the sheet down and points to her bed for me to get in.
“I need a towel,” I tell her.
“What? What for?”
“Blood.” Her face turns pale, and she returns to the bathroom, then comes out with a towel and lays it on the bed.
“Boots off.” She waves her hand as I approach her. I sit on the bed, and she bends down and starts undoing my laces. “For a big scary guy, you sure look hopeless right now.”
“I can undo my own damn shoes,” I tell her, staring at the top of her head as her hands work quickly. She raises her face to me then, and I want to keep her eyes on me. Lock them to memory and never let them leave.
“You’re broken. Now lie down.” She pulls my boots off and stands, and one hand goes to her hip as she studies me.
“I hate that you have the devil inside of you,” I tell her, my head feeling light.
“What?” My head hits her pillow, and I feel my eyes start to shut. “Kenzo.” My eyes spring back open at my name.
“Those fucking eyes…devil eyes… They want to consume me and bring me to my knees. But I won’t let them,” I slur.
Her eyes go wide, and she steps back.
Before I can stop it, mine close, and I hear her footsteps as she leaves.
“Oh, he wakes.”
I don’t bother moving as I’d know that voice anywhere. It’s basically my voice.
Kyson.
“She came home, dressed, and left again. You’ve been sleeping heaps.”
I try to sit up and regret it the minute I do. Fuck!
“Where is she?” I ask.
“What do you care? Are you fucking her?”
“No.”
“That’s what I thought,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Let’s be real. You fuck for the need, not for the want. You get a thrill out of it. And from what I heard…your little friend can’t stand the sight of blood. So it’s best you leave her alone before you get in too deep.”
“Deep?” I ask, somehow managing to pull myself up to sit on the side of the bed.
“Yes, deep. Why are you here? Why did you come to her?” he asks.
“I—”
“You don’t fucking know, do you.” He shakes his head when I look up at him. “That’s worse. That means your subconscious knows you want her, but the rest of you doesn’t.”
“I don’t want her,” I argue.
“Hmm…yeah, keep telling yourself that.”
“I don’t want her. She is everything I would never want… Quiet, loner, has no friends.”
“Sounds like you.” He laughs.
“She—”
“Just shut up while you’re ahead. You may be able to fool someone else, but not me.” He stands. “Now, get fucking better before I go and blow Pops’s house up. We said we would let you handle it, yet here you are, fucking broken.” He waves a hand at me. “You do have a house, you know.”
“Feed my dog,” I order.
“No, that mutt can die.”
“Feed my fucking dog, please,” I grumble.
“I’ll feed your dog,” Mayve chirps, popping her head in.
How long has she been there?
Did she listen to everything?
Kyson smirks as if he’s won something and leaves without another word.
“My dog won’t like you.”
“Neither does its owner, yet I’m still alive.” She comes around the bed and grabs my keys on the bedside table. When did they get there? “What’s your address?”
“I’m being serious. My dog is an ass.”
“What’s his name?”
“Mutt.” Her brows raise. “I haven’t named him,” I mumble. “But he hates everyone but me.”
She picks up her phone and hands it to me. “Put your address in, please.” The way she says it makes it sound so formal. Like she’s mad.
“Are you mad?” She doesn’t answer as I put in my address and then hands back the phone. “Mayve.”
Her eyes meet mine. “What do you care, Kenzo?” She turns and walks out of the room, her footsteps soft as she goes. And it’s then I realize she’s wearing a dress that hugs those hips perfectly, and despite my current state, my cock starts to harden.
What a traitor.
“Mayve…” The front door opens, and I don’t hear it close. “Mayve!”
“I have to go now, Kenzo.”
I want to scream at her, tell her to stop, control her, but I don’t know what to say after that.