Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
“Letti…” Morris starts.
“Don’t Letti me. Thanks for the food, but you can go now. Come back when you’re ready to speak to my friend with some respect.” She shuts the door in his face, and I smile brightly.
As a teenager, I always thought I had a backbone, but then I lost my mother. And then I was with Cody. And somehow, everything kind of shifted and changed along the way.
I want to be the same person I had hoped to be.
But I just don’t know how.
Milo is at the door later that day, and it takes me by surprise. I swing my head around to stare at him. He’s dressed in his leather and looking way too good.
“Letti,” Milo says, his gaze shifting to me where I sit on Letti’s couch. She was watching some reality TV show that she’s obsessed with, and I’m here for moral support.
“Elizabeth,” he says, using my full name. “A word, if you wouldn’t mind.”
I get up from the couch and move to stand in front of him. Just as I reach him, his hand shoots out and grabs my wrists. “How did you get these marks?” he growls. I look down to where the rope burns are etched into my skin. They are fully healed now, and only an angry red mark is left. How did he see that so quickly? I pull my hands away from his grasp and tuck them behind me.
“I’ll go to my room. Call out if you need me,” Letti says.
“She won’t need you,” Milo answers for me.
I stay where I am, blocking the doorway, not inviting him inside.
“Why are you not at home? And where is your husband?” he asks, his head tilting to the side.
“I left him.”
A slight smirk touches his lips before it’s replaced with a scowl, and he asks again, “How did you get the marks?” I look back down at my wrists.
“Know of any jobs available?” I ask, changing the subject. Why is it that I know Milo is way more dangerous than Cody, but I feel safer with him?
“A job?” he asks, surprised. His hands slide into his pockets, and he leans against the doorjamb. “You have a job. You work for me.”
“Okay, how much are you paying me? We need to renegotiate.” His lips fight a smirk. “Don’t laugh, I need things. I left with nothing,” I say angrily.
His smirk drops, and he steps in closer to me. “Come on, we can discuss this on the way.”
“What? Where?” I ask, afraid of leaving this nice safe haven I have created for myself.
“You need things, and we can discuss a job opportunity and new wages once I take you shopping.”
“I’m not going shopping with you.” I cross my arms over my chest. I mean, why would I? Does he think I’m a charity case? Because I’m not.
“Letti,” he calls out. Her door opens, and she steps out. “Helmet,” he demands, and I turn to look at her.
“He forgot to say please,” I say. She just smiles and walks back into her room. I feel his breath on my neck before he speaks.
“I will say please to one woman only.” I spin around to look at him. “Let’s go, or I’ll carry you again.”
Carry me? When did he… oh, to his bed the night I fell asleep outside the clubhouse. He nods and heads outside.
“Here you go,” Letti says, handing me a helmet. “I don’t wear it much, so it’s basically brand new.” I take it from her.
“Should I stay here? I should stay, right?” I ask, hoping she’ll say yes. I shouldn’t get on a bike with a man who is known for killing people.
“I think you should go,” she says. “If you’re comfortable with it.”
I am. I don’t feel like I’m in any danger around Milo.
Nodding my head, I carry the helmet out to where he’s waiting for me with his bike.
He is wearing his leather jacket and black jeans, and his hair is slicked back. Damn, he looks good. He would give Jax Teller a run for his money any day. Grabbing his helmet, he motions to the one in my hand. “Put it on.”
I stand there as he pulls his helmet on and straddles the bike.
He turns to me. “Do you need a hand getting on?”
“I’m sure I shouldn’t be getting on this thing,” I say. He leans the bike over so I don’t have to lift my leg too high, then shakes his head at my discomfort as I continue to stand there. Then he kicks his bike to a stand and gets off. I’m confused at first until he lifts me bridal style, being careful of where his hands are, and puts me on the back of the bike. I say nothing as he gets on, and I put my hands on his sides.