Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 102335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Wicked’s fingers find mine. I don’t pull away from him, but I don’t back down from Papa either. “I held this fort down for years while you were gone. I can handle it!”
“No.” His tone hardens. “Now leave. I will come and see you all tomorrow.” I watch as his back retreats to Tony and Colin, his two main men. More suits arrive from the back of the house, made men, glaring at the police cars like they’re scum.
“Rubs, come on. You still keep all the keys hanging up in your garage?”
“Yeah.” I swipe the tears from my cheeks, my heart squeezing in my chest. I look up at the only window with a light on, the one that is on the third level and overlooking the driveway down below. Kissing my two fingers, I blow gently toward it and cross myself.
I feel lost more than loss. There’s an emptiness that throbs deep in my chest, and the more that time goes on, it only widens. I lost my mama. The one woman who was my constant. Who I took for granted most of the time. Guilt wraps his ugly hand around my throat as my knees weaken. I barely make it through the front door of the penthouse when I fall to the floor and tears stream down my face, pain hammering against my ribcage. I reach for my dress’s zipper, forcing it down and then kicking it off my body. I don’t see anything. My eyes burn from searing hot pain as I squeeze them closed.
“Come on, buddy. You want a shower?”
I push up from the floor, forcing the tears off my cheeks and straightening myself just as Wicked’s back is to me and he’s heading upstairs.
“I—”
He pauses his steps, looking over his shoulder at me. “Don’t, Ruby. Let yourself do what you need to do. I’ve got him.” I fall to the floor as soon as Wolf is out of sight and let the pain crawl over my skin. I don’t know how long I stay there, rolled into a ball and sobbing into the marble tiles. My face is wet and my eyes are puffy. It’s not until I feel my body shift off the floor and arms wrap around me that I feel the weight of time against my face. Curling into his warm chest, I rest my cheek against his neck, breathing in and out. A barrier of safety drops around me as he carries me up the stairs. The room is dim, the smell of eucalyptus misting in the air.
I sigh against his skin, pressing my lips against his chest. He stops and slowly lowers me down, until the mattress sinks beneath my weight.
“You remembered?” My voice cracks through my sadness. “About the diffuser oil.”
He doesn’t answer at first, and when my eyes finally travel up to his face, my heart squeezes in my chest. His body is roped with tight muscles, his abs deeply cut and defined. Wicked was always solid, but this is something else… The tattoos that crawl up his arm are no distraction to the masterpiece beneath them.
He lowers himself down slowly, resting his hand on his knee and turning toward me. “Yeah, I did.” He reaches toward me and my eyes close. As soon as his finger touches my temple, a shiver creeps down my spine and goose bumps rise on my flesh. “I’m sorry about Mama, baby.”
My eyes crack open slowly and I stare blankly at the art piece hanging on my wall. “They’ll get what’s coming to them.”
“Hey!” His voice hardens, but his tone remains soft. Gentle. “Look at me.” My eyes shift to his. Wicked is painfully attractive, in a way that would be considered classically handsome if not for the hardness in his eyes, the nose ring, tattoos, and… well, the scar I haven’t touched yet that’s carved into his chest. “You don’t have to be that person with me. You know that.” He and I haven’t been around each other long since reuniting, but I know. I’ve known since the first time I saw him again that I could trust him. It’s as though all of our years apart don’t exist.
“You’re the only one who sees this side of me,” I answer hoarsely, the tears now dried on my cheeks. Reaching for his hand, I suck in a deep breath when electricity zaps between us. “Stay in here tonight.”
His hand stills. “I’m not fucking you.”
I glare up at him. “Did I fucking ask you to?”
“No.” He stands from the bed, moving across the room and flicking the light off before kicking his gray sweats off. Rude. “But then have I ever waited for your permission?”
“No,” I say into the darkness.
“Wolf crashed as soon as I put him down. This where you guys stayed?” he asks as the mattress sinks behind me.