Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 80643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
But instead his palm lands at the edge of my face, cupping the side of my jaw. His hand is warm and firm and feels so solid, like it’s bringing me back down to reality when I keep floating off into a surreal panic.
His gaze searches my face, and I see the reflection of one of the street lamps in his eyes like an amber twinkle in the silvery gray. I get a little fizzy feeling looking at them.
I felt safer the moment he was there, I realize.
And that realization makes me fucking sick.
“Tell me the truth, Noah,” he says in a soft tone.
I need him to quit asking, so I have to admit something.
I give him a little shove forward and finally he slides his hand off my face. The little fizzy feeling I had dissipates a little.
“Roman wanted me to meet with someone. For a trade. You don’t need to know more than that.”
“What type of trade?”
“He didn’t tell me, but I assume it was cash.”
“And do you think these guys are currently on their way to this house to murder us?”
“Not possible,” I tell him, and I hope that’s the truth. “Roman specifically told me that these guys have no idea about Onyx Society. They don’t know Roman’s in it, and they sure as fuck don’t know who I am. We’re safe going into the house, okay?”
Torin takes another step back toward me and reaches for the lower hem of my T-shirt. In a quick motion, he pulls it up, exposing the side of my body and running his hand along the part where the stranger had the gun on me.
The back of his hand is still smeared with blood. Some of that blood isn’t even fully dried yet.
All at once I’m hit with another wave of dizziness.
The events of the past fifteen minutes all catch up with me as the effects of the adrenaline start to feel like they’re poisoning my blood, and nothing feels right again.
None of this was supposed to happen.
“Did he hurt you?” Torin asks.
“You can see I don’t have a fucking open wound,” I spit back. “I didn’t get shot.”
“I meant with the barrel of the gun, Noah,” Torin says calmly, ignoring the venom in my tone.
Torin’s touching me again.
His hand moves all over the side of my stomach and my ribs, and it’s making me feel like I have seltzer in my fucking blood again.
“Uh, maybe I’ll have a bruise or something, but it’s not like he broke skin,” I say. “I’m fine.”
It’s hard to even form coherent sentences.
And the truth is that I don’t even know how bad those men were, or what history they have with Roman’s family. I’ve always known Roman had to do business with bad people sometimes, but I usually stay far away from anything he’s involved with.
I feel like I just got thrown into the deep end.
Into something I don’t even understand.
Torin’s palm is warm as it slides over my skin one last time, then drops away. “Let’s get inside,” he finally says, easing the fabric back down and walking ahead of me on the path at the edge of Onyx House.
Torin shoves open the iron gates at the front and we step into the garden, surrounded by hedges and flowering shrubs. This is always one of my favorite places and it’s even better in summer, so lush and green and full of life. Right now it feels like a private, personal sanctuary, shrouding us from the unknown.
It’s fucking heaven, as far as I’m concerned.
But it could be under threat at any moment, if those guys ever do figure out where we live.
I follow Torin along the front path toward the house.
And now that the panic is slowly dissipating, for some reason, the only thing I can focus on is Torin’s hair.
In the low, glowing light of the garden his hair is incredibly beautiful, golden and a little messy.
It looks so soft. Like silk, probably.
Torin is a combination of things that should all be at war with each other. I know he’s insane… but I felt safe when he arrived. He’s a feral freak, but his features are stunning in certain lights.
I’d want to kill him if he didn’t possibly save my life tonight.
He’s all sharp yet soft, and that unpredictable contrast is what gets under my skin now more than anything.
Suddenly the tangle of thoughts catches up with me and hits me like a speeding truck.
I don’t fucking like his hair. Or anything about him.
I must have permanent psychological damage after being held at gunpoint, because I sure as shit don’t give a damn how soft his hair is.
My chest is tight as we go up the few front steps at the front of the house. As he turns the front door handle, something occurs to me.