Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 111520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
But no, I hadn’t been able to risk it back then.
What if I had? Would we even be here now? Would things have been better for Aleks if I’d just given in to the temptation?
“Vaughn.”
I startled as I realized Aleks was calling me, his voice sounding strangled. I turned to look at him. I expected to see him cowering against the car door, but he wasn’t. His hands were in his lap and he was watching me, a look of concern on his face.
Concern?
For me?
At least he’d called me by my name.
The rage and regret were still too strong to make it possible for me to respond to him.
“I’m sorry, Vaughn. I shouldn’t have called you that. You… you don’t deserve that. It’s a habit—”
“Aleks,” I practically croaked.
He stopped talking and dropped his eyes. I couldn’t help but reach for his face, though I only touched his chin briefly so that he’d look at me, because I didn’t trust myself to have any kind of extended contact with him. Not to mention I didn’t want to cause any kind of discomfort by coming into contact with the bruises the men who’d abducted him had left on him. “You don’t owe me any kind of explanation… or apology,” I said firmly.
He held my gaze a moment and it looked like he wanted to say something, but as soon as he opened his mouth, he closed it again. My eyes fell to his fingers.
“What happened here?” I asked as I motioned to the small cuts on his fingers. I already knew what they were, but I needed something, anything, that would get him talking. And there was one thing I knew Aleks would talk about without fail.
“They’re, um, from working with the flowers,” he said as he studied the nicks on his fingers. I could see a little bit of dirt on the pads. It was the perpetual plight of someone who worked in any kind of gardening job, but for Aleks, those little flecks of dirt were new. Although Marcus had rewarded Aleks by letting him work with flowers and plants in the greenhouse on the property’s mansion, he hadn’t tolerated dirty hands. I’d seen Aleks scrubbing his fingers until they were raw on more than one occasion to get the grime completely off before he met with Marcus. His hands had been so clean, he might as well have been wearing gloves when he’d worked with his beloved plants. I’d once asked him why he didn’t wear gloves, but all he’d said was then it wouldn’t feel the same. I hadn’t been sure if it’d been a literal reference to not being able to work with the plants and flowers as well, or if it’d been something else… like touching that dirt had somehow made him feel free and safe and… normal.
“Father would be so angry,” Aleks whispered when he fingered some of the dirt.
God, I wanted to kill the fucker all over again.
“Not possible,” I said as I put the car in gear. “He’s too busy burning in hell.”
I got us moving and found a gas station. I didn’t even bother to remove the keys while I filled the tank. Even if Aleks hadn’t been with me willingly, I was starting to realize he wouldn’t have tried to escape.
He was too afraid of angering me.
My phone dinged just as I was rounding the trunk of the car. I pulled it out and saw who the text was from. Relief went through me when I saw both a time and address listed in the text.
Thank fuck I wouldn’t need to do this on my own.
I sent a quick text back, then got into the car. Aleks was sitting quietly with his hands in his lap. He was still staring at his fingers. I almost covered his hands with mine but decided against it. He’d probably let me touch him, but not necessarily because he wanted me to.
I went to start the car but didn’t turn the key. “Aleks,” I said softly.
He didn’t look at me.
If I wanted him to, I’d have to ask him.
No direct eye contact unless otherwise instructed.
Another fucking rule that I wanted to send Marcus and the others to hell all over again for.
“We’re going to be driving for most of the day. Are you sure you don’t want to eat something?”
“No, thank you,” he said.
Thank fuck he left the “sir” off this time.
It was all I could do not to order him to eat something. But when I went to start the car, he whispered my name so softly that I almost didn’t hear him. I pulled my hand back from the ignition and waited. If it took him all day to speak again, I’d happily sit there and tell anyone who needed to get gas to fuck off.