Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 53212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 266(@200wpm)___ 213(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 266(@200wpm)___ 213(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)
We care for those who care for us, and beyond that, everyone else is a threat. Connection is weakness, and for me, Kylie Moon is my biggest fucking liability.
She isn’t polished or curated, but her beauty is there in every innocent facet of her being and taking up space like there isn’t a seedy world thinking it can decide who she belongs to.
I didn’t come here with the intention of intervening.
I came here because I’m clearly fucking powerless against this thing I didn’t choose.
Something instinctual tightens low and harsh in my chest. The need to protect it—to protect her—runs all the way to my roots. My muscles coil, focus narrowing, everything in me snapping toward her like a compass needle when his presence overwhelms me.
Fuck. I grit my teeth.
Not expecting Holland to be here was naïve—and since being naïve is the last thing a man like me can stand to be, I will not be it twice.
The slimefuck stands ten feet back from her car, leaning against a sedan that doesn’t belong to him, materialized out of nowhere from the thick, foggy air he’s pretending to breathe.
He looks down at the screen of his phone like he’s busy with something casual rather than lurking, but I know the whole scene is too goddamn scripted to be coincidence, and that the only reason I couldn’t see him earlier is because of his shielding. Two other guys linger near the trunk of the sedan, their faces masked in darkness, and a new level of rage boils every drop of blood inside me.
Fucking gofer-cronies.
Suddenly, the thing I overheard Holland say to Kylie inside the rink—the private event thing on Friday—hits differently. This isn’t curiosity—this is a test. A practice run for the main event.
My body buzzes as I push myself into her space both mentally and physically, eating at the asphalt between us two stride-lengths at a time.
She sees the tire for the first time as she’s unlocking her door, and confusion and panic render her body motionless. Holland is fast, but I’m faster as I dominate the space in front of her, crouching at the tire.
“Oh my God!” She jumps at my unexpected presence, and her hand grasps at air, trying to hold and slow the rapid breath in her chest. The space between us fills with warm fog from the extra exhalation, and her pulse thrums noticeably in her trim neck.
My mouth waters. Much like pheromones, her blood calls to me.
I avert my eyes from the tempting vibration and pretend to inspect her tire that I don’t need to inspect at all. I already know who and how and why.
“You’ve got a flat.”
“W-where did you come from?” she asks, her voice squeaking. “Why are you here?”
I don’t answer.
If I explain why I’m here, I don’t get to stay quiet—and quiet is the only thing keeping this from turning into something that draws attention.
I run my fingers along the rubber, finding the puncture I already spotted across the parking lot. It’s small and clean and deliberate. Straight from a blade, not bad luck.
My jaw tightens. “It’s definitely flat,” I say, forcing my voice to stay even. “You’re going to need a spare.”
“That’s so weird,” she says. “It was fine when I parked.”
Yes, it was fine until it wasn’t, because someone made it that way.
Holland and his goons are close by now; I can feel their presence behind me.
“What’s going on? Everything okay?” Holland asks, voice smooth in the way that’s meant to remind me of our disparity in rank and polite to make Kylie feel like his presence is one of comfort and care.
Kylie turns toward him, understandably confused about where we’ve all come from. “I think I’ve got a flat.”
“No kidding,” he says, stepping closer. “That’s rough. It’s pretty late, Kylie. You want me to give you a ride home?”
There it is. Comfort and care and concern. A certified knight in shining armor. Too bad she can’t see his fucking fangs.
“That’s really sweet of you, Holland, but I can’t leave my car here all night. I need it for work in the morning.”
“I’ll call one of my guys,” Holland offers, completely ignoring my presence. “He’ll get it fixed and make sure it’s in your driveway by sunrise.”
I straighten slowly—primarily for Kylie’s benefit so I don’t frighten her more than she already is—standing and letting my six-foot-six frame tower over his much smaller one as I position myself between them.
“I’ve got it,” I say. “Changing to the spare won’t take more than ten minutes.”
Holland’s smile tightens. His gaze searches my face, disdain and irritation bristling in the depths of his cold, dead eyes, but I don’t budge.
Try me, you piece of shit. I’ll tear your fucking head off.
Eventually, he looks back to Kylie with a refined smile plastered across his lips, undoubtedly aimed at broadening the gap between our personalities to win the tug-of-war on Kylie’s instincts.