Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
“I don’t fucking think so.”
She pressed her face against his neck and inhaled deeply. He smelled crisp and clean like the sea, something she could live her entire life with and never get tired of. “We can’t live on the run indefinitely, Jude. They will catch up to us again and, this time, someone might die. You might die.” It made her shake simply thinking about it. “We can’t let Dmitri hurt Callie. If you think Teague is after us now, imagine what will happen if he thinks you killed his wife and unborn child.”
Jude cursed long and hard. “You crossed the country to get away from your family and now you’re willing to walk back into that vipers’ nest—”
“For you.” She lifted her head and met his gaze. “For us.”
* * *
Us.
Sloan kept saying that fucking word and, every time she did, it was a sucker punch Jude couldn’t avoid. Because it was the truth. Even before they’d found out for sure that she was pregnant, it had been them against their enemies. Them against the whole damn world.
And she wanted him to sit on his goddamn hands and let her put herself in certain danger. Not sit on your hands. Take out the enemy the way you’ve trained your whole life for. He just hadn’t anticipated the enemy being Romanov instead of Sheridan.
He held her as tightly as he dared, ignoring the flare of pain in his side. “I don’t like it, sunshine.”
“You don’t have to like it…but you have to trust me to do this—just like I’m trusting you to walk away from Romanov alive.” She took a shuddering breath. “Don’t think for a second I like that you’ll be in danger, too. But we don’t have another choice.”
It had nothing to do with trust and everything to do with wanting to keep her safe. He wanted to haul her ass out of here, hop the first flight to anywhere but Boston, and set up a little house for them. Maybe it would be enough. It wouldn’t be easy to set his shit aside and tear his gaze from the past wrongs done to him, but he could give it a shot. They’d have…
A window. Not a future. Maybe a day or maybe a couple years, but eventually that window will close and she’s right—someone will die.
It would likely be him this time.
The thought of death had never bothered him quite as much as it did now. Everyone died. He hadn’t thought about a life after his vendetta was finished because he hadn’t really thought he’d get out alive. The odds had been against him even before the Sheridans knew he existed.
And if Dmitri Romanov framed him for Colm Sheridan’s hit, the odds would be even worse.
He didn’t like the thought of not being around to see Sloan get big with child. Of not being there to hold her hand and see if she’d actually curse at him during the labor. Of missing out on the rest of her fucking life and seeing what new curveballs she’d throw once she had six months, a year, five years away from her shitty-ass family.
And the kid. There were so many firsts that he never had considered until now. First steps, first words, first day of school, watching the baby grow into a real person. Seeing what kind of adult he or she would be. He’d miss all that.
Would that kid grow up wanting revenge for my death? Would it start the cycle all over again?
No. Sloan was too smart for that. She’d raise their kid right.
She wouldn’t be alone forever, either. She’s too fucking special not to attract other men like flies to honey. Eventually, she’d let one close enough to capture her heart. She’d let another man into her bed and into her life, and he’d be the lucky bastard who got to wake up every morning to her, who got to raise my child.
No fucking way.
He took her hand and pressed a kiss to each knuckle, not taking his eyes from hers. “We’ll go back to Boston.” He kissed her wrist. “I will take care of Romanov, one way or another, and you’ll convince your brothers to call off their dogs. But if one of them hurts you, I will kill every last one of them.”
“Jude—”
“It’s the truth.” He brushed his lips against hers. “I wasn’t shitting you when I started calling you sunshine. You’re my sunshine, and my world is fucking bleak without you. So, yeah, if something goes sideways in Boston, I’ll make Colm Sheridan look like a fucking amateur.”
He felt her sigh more than he heard it. “Is that a twisted way of you trying to convince me not to go?”
“No.” He stroked a hand down her side, wanting her despite his pain. Needing her. “That’s the God’s honest truth.”