Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“Think we’re both mature enough to know that even bad guys have a good side. A lot of dictators and mass murderers and cartel bosses… they got families. Wives. Kids. People who love ‘em.”
“Would you hurt me? Hurt Lainey?”
“Fuck no.”
“Then I still don’t know what I’m supposed to be afraid of here.”
“You asked me about the wrong tattoos,” he said, reaching down for my hand.
“What?”
“Ask me about these,” he said, putting my hand to trace the tally marks that moved up his neck and the very edge of his face.
There was a sinking sensation in my stomach at the darkness in his voice, in the faraway look in his eyes.
“Are these people you’ve put in the hospital?” I asked, knowing. I already knew the answer.
“People I’ve put in the ground.”
He folded up and moved away, making me face-plant into the mattress before I could catch myself.
He whipped on his shirt and stabbed his feet into his shoes before making his way to the door.
“Coast,” I called, making him freeze, his hand on the knob.
“Yeah?”
“I’m still not afraid of you.”
His dark gaze flicked to mine.
“Then you need to be more careful. If not for yourself, then for Lil’ Bit,” he said, nodding toward the crib.
With that, he was gone.
The sound of the door closing made a crack move across my heart.
As if having a similar pang, Lainey whimpered in her crib.
I climbed off the bed, slipping into my panties and the top, but not bothering with the buttons before scooping up my baby.
“I know,” I said, looking down at her outraged face. “He’s a bad guy,” I told her. “But I think he might be a really, really good man.”
But he was gone.
And the two of us were just going to have to accept that.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Coast
That post-nut clarity was crystal-fucking-clear in that bed with Zoe, with Lil’ Bit in her playard just a few feet away, sleeping peacefully. Because she had no idea there was a killer in her home.
I’d tried like hell to stay away.
Short of having one of the guys lock me in the stupid-ass, constantly water-filled basement (likely built by some out-of-state builders who didn’t know jack-shit about the water table) with the goddamn water bugs the size of my thumb, there was no way to keep my ass at the club where it belonged.
Not with the memory of Zoe in that tub rolling around in my mind.
The shape of her body under the water.
Her soft sighs as I explored her.
The way her pussy clenched around my fingers as they fucked her.
It was too fucking much.
And I’d never been any good at denying myself the shit I wanted.
Life was too fucking short to miss out on things.
Somehow I knew that not taking the opportunity to be with Zoe would be the biggest mistake of my dumbass life.
As I drove all the way back to the motel that she called home, all I would let myself think about was how I was going to touch her, how she was going to feel under me, around me, how sweet she’d sound moaning with my cock inside her.
I couldn’t think of anything else.
Until we were wrapped up in the bed afterward, her being all soft and sweet, the baby sleeping peacefully a few minutes away.
And I realized that was the one thing they couldn’t get with me in their lives.
Peace.
That wasn’t something I had to offer myself, let alone anyone else.
Did I feel like a complete shithead to walk out after sleeping with Zoe? Yeah. I wasn’t a complete dick. Because I knew where her head was at, how alone she was, how much she needed a hand.
Enough that she let those hands be mine.
Then went and put me on a pedestal just because I gave her medicine and some basic necessities.
I’d taken advantage of her loneliness and desire to have someone around to lighten the load.
I needed to show her that the hands she was letting hold her baby were permanently fucking stained in blood.
And while I believed everyone I’d put down had deserved that shit, I also knew that women like Zoe didn’t belong with men like me.
Not casually.
Damn sure not in any serious sort of way.
And that was what a mom was going to be looking for, wasn’t it? Not a fun weekend fuck. They wanted stability. They wanted a man who wanted to put down roots with ‘em, grow with ‘em.
No decent mom wanted a revolving door of “mommy’s friends” in their kid’s life. And Zoe was more than a decent mom.
But she couldn’t root with me.
Which was exactly why I never should have put my dirty hands all over her in the first place.
I was selfish, plain and simple.
“You’re back,” a female voice said as I stood outside of Zoe’s apartment, hands on the railing, taking a steadying breath. Because I couldn’t quite force my legs to carry me away just yet.