Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 61861 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61861 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
“I enjoy touching you, so very much.”
“Please don’t. If you want to talk I’m here to listen. But you must keep your hands to yourself.”
“That’s unfair.” She raises an eyebrow at me. “Who was the woman?” I ask, referring to the lady she was talking to.
“That was Stiles’ sister. Why?”
“She was the one looking after the shop?” I ask her. Quinn had handled it all. He mentioned something along the lines of Stiles’ sister, I just didn’t pay much attention.
She simply nods her head then starts opening her mail.
“She’s really good to me. I need more females in my life...” She pauses and her hand freezes. She steps back, frozen in time, and the letter she just opened floats to the floor. Her face has gone white, and her hand comes up to cover her mouth.
Stepping forward, I reach for the letter and see a picture. It’s of her and me. On the roof of the hospital. Picking up the note, I read it out loud.
He isn’t right for you!
If you stay with him... I’m going to kill her!
Behind the photo is a photo of another lady. It reminds me of Barbie.
“Who’s this, Barbie?” I show her the photo, and she looks at me, paled.
“That’s my mother.” I look back at the photos and see it. It’s her mother, but that doesn’t make any sense. She looks up to me, her face changes and her hands clench. “This is your fault. My life is shit because of you. It’s all your fucking fault.” She steps forward, her hands slamming into my chest. I let her because she’s right. But it doesn’t mean I’ll be leaving. I’ve become selfish like that. She slows down then her head lays on my chest as I pull her to me. “I want to hate you.”
I stroke her hair, kissing the top of it. “I know, but it’s impossible to hate those that already have all your pieces.”
She shakes her head. “Who could it be? Amy?”
When I don’t answer, she pulls away and looks up at me. “It’s her, isn’t it?” My eyes skirt around everywhere but her, I don’t want to tell her. “Why are you looking guilty? You didn’t send this?” She looks up at me pointing to the letter.
“It’s not Amy,” I reply.
“Why can’t it be her? She hates me the most, apart from Livia. But she’s family despite how we feel about you.”
“It’s not Amy,” I repeat it again, and her hands go through her hair as she shakes it.
“Why isn’t it Amy?” I scratch my chin looking away. “Don’t think of an excuse, just damn-well tell me.”
I look back to see her hands are on her hips. She’s sexy as fuck when she’s feisty.
“Because I may have splattered her brains all over the Arena floor for trying to kidnap you.”
Her hands fly to her mouth as she looks at me. She speaks, but it’s muffled. “You killed her?” I shrug my shoulders. “You knew she did that?” I nod my head.
“We searched for you. You didn’t think we would?”
She stutters on her words, then tries to hide it, but I see it. “L-Livia was there...”
“Livia and I have been over for a while, she just didn’t want to believe it.”
“I can’t believe you killed Amy,” she says shocked.
“She touched you. What did you expect me to do?”
She looks up at me then look back to the floor. “What about Antonio?” I shake my head again. “You killed him, too?” she asks, her mouth agape.
“He wasn’t required anymore. He’d crossed too many lines that he couldn’t come back from.”
“Is that what you do now? Just kill people?”
“No, it’s what I do to those that deserve it.”
“What if I deserve it? What if you had to kill me?”
I groan at her words. “That would never happen because one day soon you’ll be my wife, and then the only person who’ll be killing, will be you killing me every time you refuse to kiss me.”
Her hands cross over her chest. “Sounds like you have high hopes that aren’t there to have. We aren’t even a thing. Yet, you think one day I’ll marry your ass?” She laughs and goes to step around me. I snatch her waist, bringing her back in front of me, pushing her hair out of the way and kissing down her neck.
“It’s not a matter of if, Barbie, it’s clearly a matter of when.”
She drops her head to the side. “You can’t use your words and hands to convince me.”
I laugh, and she pushes away from me. “I think I could... if I wanted to.”
She walks to the front door, opening it. “You need to leave. I have to work. And you have to find who sent this and squish it. No killing, though.” She shakes her finger at me and points to the door when I go to reach for her.