Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
A deep chuckle sent a tingle through me that I mentally cursed.
“You got feisty,” he said.
“What do you want, Kash?” I hissed.
He said nothing at first, and if I wasn’t afraid he’d grab me again, I’d start back to the house.
“I don’t know.”
I frowned. He didn’t know?
“You had me sneak out at midnight, walk blindly into the woods, and you don’t know why?”
He stepped closer to me, and that scent of his that I used to love met my nose. I refused to inhale deeply.
“You didn’t answer questions that I need answers to,” he said.
“What questions?” I bit out, more angry at myself for my reaction to him than anything.
“Why aren’t you working toward your dream of starting a theatre arts program for kids?”
He remembered. I’d almost forgotten it myself. When I’d had to give up my plans and goals to survive, I had tried to lock them away. Not torture myself with what I’d never have.
“Life sucks, Kash. And we move on,” I replied bitterly.
“That’s not an answer. The girl I knew was passionate about it. About life. Her future.”
“The girl you knew died a long time ago. Along with all her fairy tales. If that is all you came here to ask, then I’m going back inside,” I said, ready to run away from the memories, from him.
His reflexes were faster though, and his hand was locked around my arm before I could even turn to leave. “No, you’re not. You’ve not answered shit.”
“Why do you care?!” I demanded, angry that he was making me think about it all.
He leaned close to me, and I stilled.
“Because even though I want to hate you or just not fucking care, it seems I do. Now, tell me why you’re here. What happened to you the past four years?”
I tried to jerk free, already knowing he was stronger than me. “What happened to you?!” I shot back at him.
He wanted me to talk, yet he wasn’t telling me anything.
He moved closer, and I backed up, but almost immediately was stopped by a tree. My back pressed against the bark of the trunk, and I glared up at him. Dammit, even in the blanket of darkness, his blue eyes stood out.
“You want to know?” His tone turned threatening, and I stiffened. “I live in a state I don’t particularly like. I work beside guys who aren’t my family. I’ve been homesick. Miss my life here. Everything I lost. Because of you. My obsession with you …” He lowered his face until I could feel his breath on my cheek. He smelled of mint and whiskey. “You took it all from me. Even my goddamn soul …” He paused and let out a low hissing sound. “And even then, I want to rip your pants off and fuck you against this tree like the animal you always seemed to bring out in me.”
Tears burned my eyes, and I was thankful now for the dark shadows. Maybe he wouldn’t see. I sucked in a breath and swallowed hard. Too many emotions were unleashed by his words. Painful, brutal, and tempting words. The temptation to beg him to do it. Take me. Remind me what it felt like to be his was there. Entirely too close to the surface.
“Your turn, Songbird,” he said harshly. “Tell me about the last four years.”
Thinking clearly with him this close was a challenge. My brain was telling me to beat on his chest and tell him to let me go. My body, on the other hand, wanted to rub up against him like a cat. Neither wanted to talk about my past.
He ran a callous finger down my cheek, stopping at my chin. “I’m waiting.”
I inhaled sharply. Fine. He wanted to know. He had laid his false accusations out. What he believed had happened the night he killed Pirate. He’d not given me a chance to explain. He’d left me shattered.
“We left town because my mother couldn’t take the scandal of Pirate’s death. She went into deep depression and was put on meds for it. She also started drinking heavily,” I said through the lump forming in my throat. I hated talking about it. The image of her under the water. The horror of what I’d found. “One morning, I went to wake her up. She always slept late due to drinking on the meds, and it was getting closer to noon. I was worried.” I paused and closed my eyes. “She wasn’t in her bed. It was still made up. I-I went looking for her. Checked every room to see if she’d passed out somewhere else that night. When she wasn’t in the house, I went outside.” I stopped, shaking my head. I didn’t want to tell him more. I didn’t want to say it.
“You said she drowned.” His voice wasn’t angry anymore. “Did you find her?” he asked with a trace of pain, making it easier to nod my head. “Jesus,” he muttered.