Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69352 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69352 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
“I would’ve never brought her here had I known,” I commented. “I was just trying to get her on the back of the bike again. I didn’t want her to be afraid.” I paused. “She’s had a really bad day today.”
Shasha’s head turned. “What else happened?”
I told him what I’d heard the two women talking about at the park bathrooms today.
His eyes narrowed.
“I don’t know what else happened, but she was really fuckin’ down when I saw her last,” I elaborated. “Running on the side of the road where a car could’ve hit her.”
He rubbed his hands over his face.
“Sometimes, she puts on such a good front that I forget that she’s broken,” he murmured.
Broken.
Was she broken?
I didn’t think so.
“She started running when she first got…” He couldn’t even say the word. Which tracked, because I couldn’t even think it. “She started running, and she got back to herself. Started going on dates. Started living life again. But sometimes, if you catch her at the right moment, she forgets to put the mask on. Forgets to act like she’s happy.”
My stomach, which had already been in knots, seized into one large ball of horror.
“She’s moved on. She’s dated. Had sex. Seen a therapist. She’s doing all the right things. I just know…I know that she still has issues,” he intoned. “But I never see those issues, because she tries her hardest to act like everything’s okay around us.”
I rubbed the back of my neck.
“I have a guard on her twenty-four-seven now,” he confided. “That was how I knew where you were. He gives me constant updates on her.”
I imagined.
“I knew he was there,” I nodded. “I just wanted her to escape.”
“The night that her ex tried to kill her on the back of the bike…she’d surprised the guard by leaving. He tried to keep up, but it was impossible,” he explained.
I hadn’t really thought about that, but it made sense.
A vehicle wouldn’t have a chance of keeping up with a bike.
“I’ll watch out for her now, too,” I told him.
His eyes met mine over the top of his car. “She has a bad track record of choosing losers.”
I grinned. “She hasn’t chosen me. I’m choosing her.”
I imagined that it was going to take some convincing on my end to get her to give me a chance.
But it was work I was willing to put in.
Shasha sighed. “I’ll take her from here.”
Meaning, he decided that I was done.
Maybe for now, Shasha Semyonov, but not forever.
Jerking my chin up at him, I stepped away from the car, and he opened his car door.
The purr of his Mercedes engine sounded, and seconds later he was driving away.
Rubbing at the spot on my chest that was all of a sudden aching, I watched them leave.
Then I went back to the prison.
I keep subtitles on because sometimes I chew too loud.
—Cutter to Chevy
CUTTER
Bayou met me at the door, his concerned eyes looking in the car and behind me, likely wondering where Milena had gone.
“Sorry, shit got out of hand when you left,” he said. “Got her squared away?”
I nodded, jaw clenched tight.
I was torn on whether to share with him everything I knew about Pennington, but it proved unnecessary when Bayou said, “Was that her? The one that he hurt?”
I looked up at him and said, “You know?”
“Looked it up after you left,” he said as he caught the keys that I threw him. “Was wondering what he did to put that look on her face.”
The way his jaw clenched meant that he knew exactly what the fuck he’d done.
I was still numb.
Just the thought of a hair on her head being misplaced was enough to make me want to roar in fury.
For her to have gone through that…
“I was hoping to get through the rest of visitor’s hour,” I admitted.
He jerked his chin. “Head on in. I’ll give you an extra hour if you want it.”
I did.
I missed my brother.
But today, we had more to talk about.
And Copper listened.
He listened to everything, not interrupting once.
His eyes, however, showed how furious he was.
That was the one thing that the Claybornes couldn’t do.
We couldn’t hide our anger, because it always shone through our eyes.
And Copper was fucking furious.
When Bayou finally came in to let us know that I needed to leave, I was beyond exhausted.
After giving my brother a back-slapping hug, I caught my keys from Bayou as I passed and headed back to Dallas.
Instead of going home, though, I went to where I knew I would get the help I needed.
When I got to the clubhouse later that night, it was with anger still simmering in my veins.
The crew met me at the bar, and there I told them everything, not leaving out a single detail.
Not because I was telling Milena’s life story, but because I knew that I would need help should that look in Copper’s eyes fail to accomplish what I knew he was planning.