Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 89074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
He looks down at my exposed skin, glancing at my abs and then at my tattoos, which he seems particularly focused on every time he sees them.
“I scared you,” he says, looking at my eyes again. “Do you need a glass of water, or maybe a handle of whiskey?”
I swallow hard. “I don’t need anything from you. Never will.”
Panic is still coursing through my veins as the hail patters on the window.
Is he fucking with me?
Is he trying to hurt me?
Or is it something else?
His eyes narrow on me, and he gives me a bitter glare.
“You accept my brother’s condescending bullshit for a lifetime, but you won’t take help from me,” he says, shaking his head. “You’re worse than I thought.”
“Worse? Fuck you,” I tell him. “I’ve never known what your problem is with Weston. That isn’t my business. But I never did shit to you, Hunter.”
“And you act spoiled, just like my brother, even though you didn’t grow up with a silver spoon like us.”
“I thought I was about to die two minutes ago and now you’re calling me spoiled,” I say. “And you wonder why I don’t trust you?”
The panic is gone from me now.
It’s all rage.
Hunter doesn’t seem to care at all. “You’re spoiled enough that you don’t accept when someone wants to help you, because you think you have to do everything yourself.”
“It’s because I don’t trust you, Knox. Not because of some stubborn independence. You show up in Onyx and suddenly there are photos of me nailed onto the front door?”
Hunter’s gaze steadies. “Excuse me?”
“Nobody told you what happened earlier?”
“What happened earlier?”
“Cute that you’re playing dumb. Who took those pictures of me? Maybe it’s the fucking asshole who’s been following me around all week.”
“So they’ve been following you, too,” Hunter says. “God, I fucking knew it.”
I bring my hands up to my hair, running my fingers through it.
“I’m so confused. And I’m so tired of being confused.”
“Nothing confusing about it. Someone’s trying to get to you, and I’m going to find them and put a blade through their throat.”
His words put a chill down my spine.
“You wouldn’t actually kill someone for me, Hunter.”
I say it, but I don’t know if I mean it.
Hunter’s been in a lot of trouble in his life.
He’s hurt a lot of people, even if they usually deserved it. When kids bullied him, they always ended up bloody or bruised.
And once, I saw him punch a guy directly in the jaw in the hallway back in high school after the guy called his own girlfriend a “whore” for wearing fishnet stockings.
But had Hunter Knox really killed someone?
Did he have the capability of it?
What happened to him in London? Or… what did he do in London?
“Quit acting like I’m your enemy,” he tells me, something flickering in his eyes. “Yes, I’m following you. No, I am not going to stop. I’m going to watch you. I like watching you. And you like it, too, when you let yourself admit it.”
My heart pounds in my chest.
“Why did you leave London?”
His eyes flare for a moment but he ignores the question.
He always ignores it when I ask about his life.
Instead he reaches out, putting his hand on my hip.
“Are you the jealous type, Rayne?” he asks me. “Sure looked like it when you saw me touching Briar in the Colossus earlier. You wished it was my hands on you, didn’t you? Is that what you wanted me to do after I made you choke on my cock? Give you tender loving care afterward and rub your back—”
I come at him fast, shoving him forward hard.
But he’s faster.
As always.
His hand moves to grab the knife again and by the time I have him shoved back against the wall, he moves one arm up.
And he puts the cold metal knife against the center of my chest, pushing it forward.
It’s like I’ve gotten the breath knocked out of me.
It takes me a second to register that the knife hasn’t sliced into my skin.
Where I expect to feel a sharp pain, all I feel is a dull, pointed pressure.
I look down and see that he has the knife flipped in reverse, the sharp edge pointing away from me and the blunt edge pushing into my chest.
My heart rate ratchets up as I see the look in his eyes.
He looks wild. Unpredictable.
Truly unhinged, more than I’ve ever seen before.
“Are you asking to see what I’m capable of, Rayne?” he murmurs, and his free hand comes down to slide around my wrist just like he had it the other day, gripping tight.
He’s so close to me.
“Chill out,” I say, but it sounds meager coming out of my mouth.
“You’ll never know what happened in London. And you’ll never know why I have my differences from Weston. I told you one sad story, but you don’t know a single thing about me. I can turn this blade around anytime I want.”