Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 146666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 733(@200wpm)___ 587(@250wpm)___ 489(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 146666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 733(@200wpm)___ 587(@250wpm)___ 489(@300wpm)
“I do, big brother. This is something I have to do.”
“Fine. But you are going to have the phone numbers from all of my Iron Shadows brothers, and you will call them if you need them. Get me?”
“I get you.”
“Right. Come on, Bubbles. You need to get to sleep. After I spank you for ganging up on me.”
Greer knew she wasn’t meant to hear that last part. But she had excellent hearing.
She sighed. What would it be like to have a relationship like that? With her own bossy man? Because, ew, she didn’t want her brother like that.
“Greer?” he called out.
“Yes?” she asked.
“Go to bed.”
She rolled her eyes. Maybe she was better off without a man if he was going to be as bossy as Aidan.
Yeah. You keep telling yourself that.
24
“Bye, Auntie Greer! Bye!”
She waved until she could no longer see her nephews.
Then she slumped into the nearest chair. Airports were not restful places, but a tornado would feel restful after a day spent with those boys.
Holy. Heck.
She hoped Livvy and Aidan survived this trip with them.
With a chuckle, she made her way to their car and then drove back to their house. Aidan had told her to use his car while hers was getting fixed.
A sense of loneliness ran over her as she reached the house.
Maybe she should have gone with them. Perhaps this was a stupid idea, staying here on her own.
You could call Hack. See what he’s doing?
Urgh, no. She couldn’t do that. She hadn’t heard from him since they parted ways. Which made her feel sad, but wasn’t surprising.
As she grew close to her house, she noticed that Duke and Sunny’s place was dark. The tattoo parlor they owned stayed open late, though.
She’d met Sunny yesterday morning. She was so sweet and exactly who Duke needed. She was so happy for them.
Still, the darkness next door made her feel a bit wary as she parked in front of the garage. Especially as she noticed a truck parked on the street. Who did that belong to?
It could be anyone, Greer. Don’t be silly.
Grabbing the mountain of food she’d gotten from a drive-thru, she made her way to the door. She had the cardboard box on the ground as she unlocked the door.
After pushing the door open, she froze.
There was someone in here. She stumbled back, reaching into her handbag for her phone.
Who was here?
Who the heck would be close enough for her to call?
Call the cops.
But she didn’t trust the police. It had been ingrained into her growing up. And made even worse when Aidan had been arrested for beating up that jerkface, Jorgen. He’d deserved it. But instead of throwing him into jail for raping her, the cops had arrested Aidan.
She fumbled her phone, squinting down at the screen. Why couldn’t she make out the names? God damn it. She ended up hitting someone’s name.
Then she turned to run. She had to get out of here.
“Hello?” a male voice called out from inside the house.
“Stay away from me! I have a Taser! I will get you!” she screamed as she took off running. But she forgot about the steps off the porch and stumbled down them. Her phone went flying as she heard someone calling out from the speaker. She slammed onto the concrete on her hands and knees.
Pain shot through her as she scraped her skin. Tears filled her eyes.
“Greer!”
It barely registered that the person in the doorway was calling out her name. All she knew was that she needed to get out of there.
Safe. She had to get to safety.
She stumbled to her feet again and tried to take off. Her wrist throbbed, so she held it against her chest protectively.
“Greer? It’s me. It’s Cash!”
She was on the footpath by now. Fuck. Maybe she should have run for the car, but she didn’t know where the keys were. Had she dropped her handbag?
Oh God!
She was never going to outrun this guy. She could hear him behind her.
“Greer! Listen to me! It’s Cash! Stop!”
Wait. What?
“Greer-bear!”
That had her stopping. She paused, then spun around.
There he was, standing under the streetlamp. He looked so much older than she remembered.
It had been nearly nine years.
Yes, but it was more than his looks. It was in the way he held himself. He was no longer that idiot seventeen-year-old with more cockiness than sense.
This was a man standing in front of her.
One who’d been through something. That was easy to see.
She took him in. His dark hair was longer on top and shaved at the sides. He had a short dark beard. Tattoos went up his neck and over his hands, which were the only bits of skin that she could see clearly.
“Cash,” she whispered.
He was staring at her almost as awkwardly as she was at him.
She hated this. When he’d called her, it had been like this too. She’d blamed it on the fact that they were on the phone. She hated talking on the phone. She needed to see people’s faces to discern what they were thinking or feeling. Text and calls just didn’t work for her.