Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Before her world had blown up in her face, she had several routes around the neighborhood that she liked to take, depending on her mood. Today, she wanted to go through Cambridge Common. It never failed to lift her spirits, even if there was always a small tinge of jealousy, since the people she saw there were from a completely different world than she was.
Micah easily kept pace, staying a few feet back where he could survey the threats to her before they got too close. They’d run together before, though not recently, so it was easy to fall back into the sound of his footsteps echoing hers. She pushed play on her phone and let the first strains of “Chasing Twisters” by Delta Rae roll over her as she wound through the streets. The heat of the day had given way to a slightly cooler evening, but the humidity made her clothes cling to her skin before she was through with her first mile.
She crossed the street to the common, slowing down so she could drink in the view. It was a strange comfort to know that her life might be falling apart in many ways, but the world kept on spinning. The huge, grassy field was broken up by a handful of trees and a scattering of summer students. It was nowhere near as busy as it’d be in the fall, but the normalcy she craved could always be found here.
She picked up her pace again, circling the block before heading back. It was a good five miles, and the paths through the trees settled her in a way that little else was able to.
Teague could.
He’d done an excellent job of it last night. It was more than the orgasms—although those had been outstanding. When he held her in his arms, she could almost believe that she was truly safe and that, together, they could vanquish any enemy who rose against them. It was a foolish romantic notion, but even now she craved his mouth on hers and his skin sliding against her own. Maybe she’d call him when she got home. There were still half a million worries plaguing her mind, but it wouldn’t hurt to have another reprieve again.
Selfish? Most definitely. But she was so terribly alone in her guilt of Brendan’s murder. She wanted Teague to tell her everything would be okay, even if she couldn’t be completely honest with him.
She turned for home, her pacing slowing as her muscles cataloged their exhaustion. She didn’t see the car approaching, but a strong hand around her stomach yanked her away from the street as the SUV screeched to a halt in front of them. Micah turned, putting his body between her and the threat, but she saw the rear door fly open when she peered around his arm. Callie flinched, but no attack came.
Instead, a body fell to the pavement with a dull thud and the door slammed shut as the vehicle peeled out, its tires smoking as it fled down the street. Not a drive-by. She ducked around Micah. “The plates. Memorize the plates.” She didn’t pause to make sure he obeyed, because she’d reached the man.
She turned him over carefully, and went cold when she caught sight of his face. “Teague. Oh my God.” His face was swollen and there was blood… everywhere. She felt for a pulse even as she raised her voice slightly. “Micah, I need you.” His chest rose and fell slightly, and she nearly cried out with relief. “We have to get him back to the house.”
Micah crouched on the other side of Teague. “It’s that little O’Malley shit. I say we leave him.”
She froze, barely holding in the impulse to scream in his face. Instead, her tone came out icy and low. “That is my fiancé you’re speaking of, so I suggest you watch your tone.”
His jaw hardened. “Yes, ma’am.” He only ever called her that when he was pissed, but she couldn’t bring herself to care right now. She’d deal with Micah’s hurt feelings when she was sure Teague would be okay.
She hadn’t wanted Brendan. If he had been the one dumped, she barely would have spared the step it required to move over his body. Perhaps that made her a monster, but she couldn’t change the way she felt. But this wasn’t Brendan—this was Teague. The man who’d helped her forget, at least for a little while, who’d held her in his arms and made her feel safe so she could actually sleep through the night. She’d no more leave him here than she would one of her people.
Hers.
The thought was almost enough to make her laugh. She wasn’t sure when he’d slipped beneath her defenses, but she already cared about him more than was safe. She waited for Micah to heft him off the ground. The man wasn’t a weakling by any means, but Teague was a large man in his own right. Thank God they weren’t far from the house.