Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 167819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 839(@200wpm)___ 671(@250wpm)___ 559(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 167819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 839(@200wpm)___ 671(@250wpm)___ 559(@300wpm)
“No. It’s been decided. Lincoln met with him this morning. And he’s agreed.” She lets go of his hand and walks over to me. She cups my face. “You’re lucky anyone will marry you, Elli. With your … past and current situation.” Her eyes roam my tangled hair and swollen face with disgust. “You’ll see this is for the best.”
My chest is so tight it hurts to breathe. I always feared this would happen. She’d dictate what I do, who I can date. The older I got, the less I thought about it. This has to be Lincoln. He’s making an example of me. Getting her to throw me away for good. “What about Sin?” I whisper.
She frowns. “He’s already promised to marry, Elli. Jesus, did he not tell you anything? You know how this works. Honestly, I don’t even know why you dated him in the first place knowing it couldn’t go anywhere.”
Couldn’t go anywhere? I never thought about marriage, but I also never thought about him marrying either. “No.” I shake my head. How long had I been asleep, for Christ’s sake? “He’s not…”
“The families announced their engagement this morning, Elli.” Her eyes soften and she sighs.
My shoulders shake. This morning? After he fucked me in this house. “Who?” I lick my cracked lips. The gag from our time in the basement yesterday was rough on them. “Who is it?”
“Amelia Cleary.” She smiles. “She’s lovely. The whole family. Her mother is a friend of mine.” She reaches up and pats the side of my cheek. “She’s the one who sold us this house.”
He’s marrying his chosen? My legs give out, and I fall into my seat once again. She kisses my cheek. “I’ll see you Thursday. We’ll do lunch.” Then she takes Lincoln’s hand and leaves my house. Their house?
It’s supposed to belong to me and Sin. How … What happened? He told me yesterday that I was his. He’s branded my inner thigh. He tattooed me …
“Look at that,” he whispers in my ear. His arms have to hold me up, my legs too tired.
Opening my eyes, I look over my shoulder to the mirror in the bathroom to see SIN across my lower back, right above my ass. It’s red and a little bloody. I whimper and he brings my face to look up at him while he stands in front of me. “You … tattooed me.” My voice is rough. I had an idea what he was doing. I could hear the buzzing and feel the needle in my skin. I got off on it. The pain, the fact that I knew he was claiming me again in his own way turned me on.
Cupping my cheek, his blue eyes search mine before he lowers his face, so close our lips almost touch. “You’re goddamn right I did.” I whimper. “It’s a reminder that you belong to me. Always have and always will.” Then his lips capture mine in a breathtaking kiss.
I refuse to believe he tattooed his name on me yesterday and then announced an engagement this morning. That’s not something you do on a whim. He would have known they were going to announce it.
“Sin?” I call out, my voice cracking in the now silent house.
Getting to my feet, I run to our bedroom. I open the closet door and my breath catches, all of his stuff is gone. No. This can’t be happening.
I run back to the bed and pick up my cell. I call his. “You’ve reached Sin—” Straight to voicemail.
I do it again. Same. I decide to call Kira. She answers on the second ring. “Where are you?” I rush out, not even waiting for her greeting. Entering the kitchen once again, I grab my car keys.
She yawns. “House of Lords.”
“Is Sin there?” I’m sliding a pair of shoes on that lay by the front doors. Bending over makes the skin across my back pull tight, reminding me of the tattoo that is now there for the rest of my life.
“I haven’t seen him.”
“Is his car there?” I demand.
“Elli—”
“Kira, please. Check for me.” I’m running down the steps and to my car parked in the driveway.
“Let me look.” She sighs. A moment later she answers, “Yes, it’s here…”
I hang up and smash on the gas, tossing my phone to the passenger seat. Making it to the house in ten minutes when on any given day it would take over thirty. I rush inside, ignoring the stares that the guys give me. I’m running down the hallway and shove his bedroom door open. It’s empty but his bathroom door is open. I enter to find him fresh out of the shower, jeans low on his hips. A towel in his hand drying off his hair.
“Is it true?” I ask, swallowing the knot in my throat, afraid of his answer. My mind telling me to shut the fuck up, turn around, and leave. To save myself the heartache that I already know is coming.