Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 103141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
And he’s the same with me.
“Come on. Let’s get this sling back on you.” That’s a much safer topic, one that makes more sense than whatever else the rest of it is.
Rian doesn’t argue with me as I put his sling on.
He sits on the bed, gun on his thigh, while I go into the bathroom and change as well, leaving the door cracked open.
Rian doesn’t allow me to help him with his shoes. I guess he’s had enough assistance for now. God forbid someone needs support. And then he’s turning off the house alarm, holding the door open, and signaling for me to go outside.
I do, the fresh air immediately warm and welcoming on my skin.
“This is the first time I’ve been outside since…”
“Since you tried to escape?” He smirks in this light, fun way that he’s shown glimpses of. Who is this man? There are so many layers to him, more than just the one I saw that first day he took me.
Kidnapped me.
I need to remember that.
“Yes. Since then.” I watch him as the two of us go down the porch steps.
“I’m not going to fall,” he says.
“That’s not what I’m waiting for. Where is the lecture? Don’t try to run, don’t scream, I have a gun, blah blah blah.”
“You’re not stupid. You know what’s at risk. I don’t have to keep reminding you.”
Truth. And I’m not foolish enough not to know he could pull the gun from his waistband before I had the chance to get away anyway. And bringing someone else into it would only ensure they were killed too, and I would never do that. “Well, shit. Put some eggs and toast in you, and you’re suddenly much more agreeable.”
“I’ve been much kinder to you than I would have been to anyone else.”
“Lucky me,” I joke.
“Wow. He jokes.”
“I joke,” I argue. “Sorry if I’ve been a little preoccupied with nursing you back to health and, you know, death threats and all.”
“Keep throwing that in my face, why don’t you?” Rian kicks at a stick, which goes flying.
We don’t head toward the driveway, instead turning around the back of the house, walking through the woods. We’re far enough out that I doubt we will run into anyone. I don’t even remember how close the nearest house was when we drove in, but I don’t figure Rian would have me out here if there was danger of running into someone else’s home.
When we’re just a little ways away, the house still in the distance, what Conan said to me before flitters back in my head, and I freeze—one foot in front of the other.
“What’s wrong?” Rian asks.
“What about the invisible fence?” He frowns, and I continue. “The one that will shock me because of this stupid thing on my leg?”
The second the words are out, Rian bursts into laughter. It’s the first time I’ve heard it, and as much as I almost get distracted by the deep, rich sound, I can’t help but be frustrated.
“Conan told you that? That was a lie. He was just trying to scare you.”
“Well, it worked!” I argue. “I hate your friend.”
“You hate me, too.”
Not in the same way I hate his friend. “What an asshole,” is all I say as we continue walking again, every few seconds, Rian letting out a soft chuckle again. “I’m glad my fear amuses you.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make light of it. It’s just…well, it was a good lie.”
I roll my eyes, and strangely, some of my annoyance has washed away by the lightness in his tone…and the apology.
“I haven’t done something like this in a while,” I admit.
“Walk?” he asks.
“No. Well, yes. I jog for exercise, but I don’t remember the last time I went on a walk just to go on a walk. Certainly not through the woods like this. My mom loved being outside. She was a nature artist.”
“Drawing?”
“Yes. Painting too. She was incredibly talented. She used to try to teach me to paint. I was terrible. An artist I am not.”
Rian chuckles. “That’s sweet, though. She sounds like a good mom.”
“The best,” I answer.
“Moira was too,” he says so softly it’s hard to make the words out. “She loved being a mom. She was so good with Cillian. When we first brought him home, I was afraid I would break him, but she just…knew everything. I never doubted her when it came to kids. Cillian was five when I brought Rory home and—”
“Who’s Rory?” I ask.
“Cillian’s best friend. His father was brought into our family by my brother. I hated the motherfucker. He was shit to his son, and Rory’s mom had a lot of mental health struggles. He didn’t have anyone, so I brought him home because I knew Moira would know what to do…and she did…and Cillian too. He’s a caretaker like she was.”