Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 62197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
The man I’d grown to know over the past ten years through our texting was much different from the possessive, secretive, and dangerous one I was slowly unraveling. The different personalities he seemed to have were giving me whiplash. When he was with me, it was perfect, I didn’t question anything.
It was when he was gone that the insecurities crept in, and soon enough, those fears became reality. Like so many before me, I became one of Ransom Carver’s cast offs. Not only going completely silent, shutting me out, but he had broken me in ways not even my mother had been able to do.
Ransom
When called out, I had admitted to my mistake. But the price for it was too high. Never had I disobeyed an order, but I had never been told I couldn’t have the one person I depended on for peace. Being born into the southern mafia left you without a choice. It was simply a life you grew up in. You didn’t leave it. You lived it.
Staying away from Noa was asking too much of me. I’d tried, but my will was breaking along with my weak grip on my sanity. I was crossing lines that could get me killed, but even if she couldn’t see me, I had to protect her. Keep her safe. Do unsavory things to those who got too close or wanted what belonged to me.
Without her in my life, then the rest no longer mattered.
This is the continuation and conclusion of Noa and Ransom's story
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
One
Noa
My eyes swung from the security camera at the entrance to my building complex back to my bedroom. The sound of running water reminding me that Ransom Carver was in my shower. That still seemed unreal. The bubble of excitement at the thought was burst quickly, when the front entrance buzzed again.
Frowning, I stared at Thurston on the screen. Why was he here? I hadn’t given him my address. I would have to blame that on my best friend, Jellie. She meant well, but there was no spark with Thurston.
While there was a raging fire with Ransom. One I was afraid was going to burn me to the ground, but I wasn’t about to tread carefully.
Ransom had shown up in my apartment last night and said things that I never thought I’d hear him say. Then there had been a lot of sex. I smiled, biting my lip and thinking about what all we’d done.
Thurston sighed heavily and pulled out his phone to begin what looked like texting. I bit down too hard on my lower lip, unsure of what to do, then let it go with a wince. He hadn’t texted or called me first. We’d just met this weekend. Shouldn’t he have at least sent me a text before showing up here? And why was he already back from Boston? What about his car?
I’d forgotten about that already—well, until now. Although it had just been yesterday morning, it felt as if more time had passed. Ransom had a way of distracting me. He always had. Even when it was just his words I read on my phone.
Deciding that ignoring Thurston would make things weird and he’d probably start calling, I pressed the button that unlocked the door for him to enter, then ran a hand through my tousled hair. Not that I was trying to look good for Thurston, but I didn’t want to answer the door with a just been fucked look. I doubted Ransom would want that either.
I stared hard at the door, wondering if I’d made a mistake. Maybe I should have ignored him and dealt with this later. I wasn’t positive if I even had anything to deal with at all. Ransom had said things about not sharing me. The memory sent a warm surge of joy through my chest. One that I would probably regret later.
Facing a future heartbreak was a price I was willing to pay if it meant I got Ransom. Even for a little while. The fear that I could lose him and our friendship was annoyingly there in the back of my mind, but it didn’t have much time to bloom before the knock on my door interrupted it.
Crap. I should have just ignored this. I could have sent Thurston’s call to voicemail and dealt with it later.
Sighing, I unlocked the door and opened it up. Dressed in a pair of freshly pressed khakis and a polo shirt that matched his sea-green eyes stood Thurston Coburg. I refused to call him Thurst, like Jellie’s boyfriend, Zeke, did.
His eyes did a quick sweep of my body, which was currently wrapped in a knee-length pink satin robe. I should have put on clothes, but too late for that now.
“Did I wake you up?” he asked as his blond brows drew together in a frown.
While it sure appeared that way, it was also almost eleven. I could see where his confusion might come from.
I shook my head. “No. Just a lazy morning,” I replied, which was a lie. Nothing about the past two hours I’d spent with Ransom was lazy.
He gave me a crooked grin at that response, then stepped forward, as if to come inside. That wasn’t a great idea, but before I could think of a reason for him not to, he walked past me and into the entryway. I began to panic when his gaze swept the area, as if he was inspecting it. That annoyed me, but I was too busy trying to decide how to get rid of him.
“Nice place. I looked at this complex before I leased the flat I’m at now, but it was a touch too steep for me. Smut novels must be profitable.”
Eh, okay, he was starting to piss me off. The tone in his voice, as if what I wrote amused him, was one I was familiar with. It was often one I heard when I was asked about my “smut writing” or something equally insulting. I wrote romance novels. My books had plot. They weren’t just porn. Sex was a minor role in the storyline. There was angst, pain, drama, all wrapped up in a pretty bow.
“You could say that,” I replied, not trying to mask my dislike of the word smut. Although he didn’t seem to pick up on it.
Turning back to look at me, he flashed his perfect white smile that I would bet money was fake.