Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
After a short while, I decide it’s time to wake her up. I don’t want to surprise her when everyone shows up, and she hasn’t even had a chance to open her eyes.
“Willow,” I whisper in her ear and start to rub her arm tenderly. “It’s time to wake up.”
She sucks in a breath and curls deeper into my side. As much as I would love to stay in bed with her all day, fuck, all week, I can’t. This needs to be done as fast as possible. When Willow’s eyes start to drift closed again, I shake her a little more.
“Hey, I need you to wake up. The police and a lawyer are coming by soon.”
“What?” Her voice is raspy and wrapped up in sleep, but she stirs in my arms. Turning so she can see my face, she asks again. “What?”
“My brother’s lawyer is coming by; the detectives will be here shortly after that. You need to tell them what happened last night.”
“O-okay,” she whispers, her eyes darting around the room. “Do I have time to take a shower?”
“Yeah, go ahead.” I watch her get up, half tempted to follow her into the shower, but I end up letting her go alone. Less than ten minutes later, she reappears from the bathroom. Her naked body is wrapped up in a towel, beads of water glisten against her bare shoulders. Her black hair seems even darker and falls off her shoulders in large curls. Even freshly showered, she looks like a goddess.
She doesn’t even blink as she drops the towel and pulls her panties up her legs. Averting my gaze, I look down at the mattress because if I stare at her for another second, I might just take her against the bed. When I look back up, she’s just pulling her shirt over her head.
Crawling back onto the bed, she takes the open spot next to me.
“What happens now?” She whispers, and I can feel how fragile she is, simply by the tone of her voice, almost as if she’s given up. I don’t want her broken, but I can’t do anything to fix her until we fix what’s already happened. Nate will pay for fucking with her. I’ll personally dish out his ass-kicking and then some.
“Do you know where Ashton is?” I ask, keeping my voice soft.
Her beautiful green eyes fill with rapidly rising fear, “Parker…” She shakes her head, “Please don’t make me tell you. What are you going to do to her?” Her panic is palpable, and I can taste it on my tongue.
Cupping her by the cheek, I lean into her, inhaling her sweet scent into my lungs. “The lawyers and detectives are going to want to talk to her. We’re not going to do anything to her. Just talk.” I don’t know how I’m remaining so calm right now, but what I do know is that if I start to break down, Willow will clamp up, and I need her to be open if I’m going to get my brother out of this fucking mess.
“Parker,” she pleads, her fingers gripping onto my arm, “she’s incredibly fragile right now. Please don’t do this. Won’t it be enough if I say what Nate told me?” I know what she’s feeling right now, the need to protect her family and her sibling. But I can’t, won’t let this go on any longer. Brett is innocent, and he’s spent enough time paying for another man’s crime.
I shake my head, trying to keep my cool, “I’ve been emailing back and forth with the lawyer all morning. What happened yesterday will reopen an investigation, but it won’t help get my brother out any time soon. There is too much evidence against him.”
“Okay,” she whimpers, and I can see the indecision on her face. If she doesn’t tell me. Fuck, I don’t even want to think about it. “You’re right. We need to do this as quickly as possible…. Ashton is… she is in a rehab facility. She is in a bad place. Has been since that night. She’s tried to kill herself twice.” Willow’s voice breaks at the end, and like an overflowing sink, the emotion inside her spills over. She lets her face fall into her hands and starts crying again.
Shit. I didn’t know Ashton was doing that bad. I’ve hated her for so long for putting my brother in prison. It was easy to imagine that she was somewhere out there, living a good life, while my brother was rotting in jail. The thought used to make my anger grow, and I fed off that anger for so long. If I’m honest with myself, I wanted to feed it. I wanted that fury to grow because it was the only thing I had left. I let it fester like a wound that would never heal. For the first time in two years, I let my empathy take over as I think about poor Ashton, and what she has been through. She’s suffered so much. I can’t even imagine.