Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 122440 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 612(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122440 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 612(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
His thumb slid gently from her bottom lip to her chin. “He may be one, Harlow. There are many monsters in this world. I grew up with one as well. The things I saw as a child, the things I was forced to do, losing my mother and brother the way I did, all of that shaped me into a monster.”
Her treacherous heart wept for him. How had he lost his mother? His brother? She couldn’t have said anything, even if she tried. The last thing she expected was for him to open up to her. Wilder had a reputation even among Rainier’s security force. From the beginning, when he’d first come onto her radar, she felt the darkness in him. It was rumored he was a little crazy, a wild card, yet he appeared to be close with Sam, Zale and Rainier. They were very good judges of character.
“I would run through the woods, try to lose myself there, try to be one of the animals, because there was nothing left in me as a human but darkness. I lost my heart, and if we have souls, that was gone as well. I couldn’t feel for anything or anyone. My father had shaped me into a killing machine. The military did the rest, giving me more tools. Everywhere I trained only added to my arsenal of weapons. I felt nothing. I’d become the very thing my father was.”
Harlow didn’t believe him. He might see himself that way, but she saw him differently. She saw into him. She absolutely knew she wasn’t building a fantasy about who he was. She’d witnessed his kindness, how gentle he could be. “Wilder…”
His thumb slid across her lips, silencing her. “Let me get this out. You don’t know the reputation I have in my agency. I am the psycho. The wild card. The one Blom sent when he needed multiple cartel members taken out because I have no fear of death. I have no filters. I never stop. That’s what he values in me.”
She’d definitely heard that rumor about him. Yet…“What about Rainier?” Because to Harlow, Rainier seemed far scarier.
“Rainier keeps to a code of honor, and he instilled that in me and a few others. Having a man like Rainier believe in me kept me from being a complete psychopath, but I still knew there was no redemption for me. And then one day, I saw you. You were on a boulder, and the sun hit you just perfectly. You looked like a fiery angel with your hair blazing red, blowing in the wind. I saw you helping two climbers who were obviously new to the sport; you were so patient with them. They were older and obviously strangers, but you took time out of your recreation to help them. After that, every chance I got, I came to Knightly to see you. I stalked you like the creeper psycho I am. When Sam needed help and wanted you and your friends safe, I drew your name, and I knew it was fate. I was supposed to have you.”
Harlow found herself blushing. She was a redhead, her skin pale, and when she was embarrassed, she had never been able to stop the wild color from creeping into her face. She remembered that encounter with Wilder very vividly. That had been the start of her secret obsession with him. She didn’t need him bringing up that particular event. She hadn’t behaved with her usual reserve. In fact, she had no idea what had gotten into her.
“Maybe we shouldn’t talk about that.” Although she liked that her first encounter with him hadn’t been the first time he noticed her. She actually liked that a lot, even though he had described himself as a creeper and a stalker.
“Maybe we need to talk about that. You fought me, do you remember? Because every single second of that day is burned into my memory. That was the day a light started in me. You were like a little wildcat, all flames and claws.”
The memory flooded her mind—and body. She had no idea why she had suddenly been so out of control that day. She was all about discipline. All about control. As a child, she had learned to act, to show the world the perfect family. Her training had come with her father’s heavy-handed lessons and her mother siding with her father, even if he’d given her a black eye or split lip. She knew how to play a part, but whenever she was close to Wilder, every single bit of self-control seemed to go out the window.
Wilder had come to get her to take her to a safe house where Sam’s friends would watch all the women they believed were in danger. She had refused to leave her shift. Wilder hadn’t argued with her; he’d simply picked her up and carried her out. She’d been shocked. She had fought him but not for the reasons she should have been fighting. One simply didn’t leave their shift. She wanted to blame her reaction on that sacred fact, but it wasn’t about that. She was terrified of her body’s reaction to him. She’d never experienced anything remotely like that attraction before.