Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74670 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74670 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
“Locke seems concerned about her,” Bane said. “Why not just move her to his place? He and Gathe have room.”
“No,” I snapped. “The security there isn’t tight enough.”
“Locke and Gathe aren’t enough protection?” Ransom asked.
“I said, NO!” I shouted, then turned to get the fuck away from them before I did something I might or might not regret. Like beat the hell out of the next one that spoke.
“She’s too young, Luther!” Linc called out after me.
I didn’t turn around, but I did respond with the lifting of my hand and my middle finger as I stalked off.
I wasn’t wanting to fuck her. I was worried about her. I felt…I didn’t know…responsible for her. I’d found her. She’d trusted me. When I walked into that damn room every morning, her face lit up at the sight of me. Only Maui ever reacted to me like that. And, no, I wasn’t comparing her to the dog, but it was nice to be…wanted. For more than my cock or a good time. Maybe I had some goddamn daddy fetish rearing its head. Whatever it was, I was taking care of her until we knew she was safe and healed. Both physically and mentally.
The life she had been living clearly wasn’t safe, but the more I read to her and we talked about books, I realized just how well educated she was. Her speech was cultured and refined. Sure, she had some Southern drawl to her accent, but it wasn’t from around here. It was different. More…Texan if I had to label it.
Wait. Texan…oil. I stopped. That might be a long shot, but it was something. My pace picked up as I continued to the exit of Bane’s house.
What if Texas triggered a memory for her? I was about to find out.
Six
Lace
Maui had taken up the spot beside me on the patio sofa and was resting his head in my lap while Jayda sat in a chair diagonal to me and Locke sat in a chair to my left. We’d been out here almost an hour, and it was nice to feel human. There was a large fireplace built into a stone wall with a fire roaring in it, warming the space just enough. The breeze wasn’t so cold that it was uncomfortable, but it was slightly chilly.
I was wearing a pair of jeans and a soft cream-colored sweater that Jayda had supplied. That, too, was a nice change. It reminded me of…me, possibly. I wasn’t sure, but I could feel a tug of thoughts trying to break free inside my head. Yet all I could remember was my name. It was frustrating not to be able to break down the wall holding back things that were right there.
“Can I get you something else to drink?” Jayda asked me when I finished the glass of hot tea she had supplied earlier.
“I’m fine. Thank you,” I assured her.
“Ah, Jayda, you’re a peach. I’d love another Corona,” Locke said, winking at her.
She rolled her eyes and didn’t move to get up. “I wasn’t asking you,” she replied. “You know where they are.”
Locke placed a hand on his heart. “Ouch.” He winced.
I bit my bottom lip to hide my smile. I was pretty sure he was kidding, but I didn’t want to laugh if he was serious and I was reading this wrong.
“I brought you the first one because I was up,” she told him. “I’m not up now.”
He sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he shook his head in mock disappointment. I was waiting for his response, enjoying their back-and-forth, when the door opened, and Maui’s head shot up to see who it was.
The sight of Luther stepping outside made my stomach do a fluttery thing that was only getting stronger the more I was around him. His blond hair was pulled back in a messy knot, and his hazel gaze scanned the area until it locked on me. He closed the door, and I realized I was smiling a little too brightly before I tamped it down a bit.
I didn’t know how old he was, but then I didn’t know how old I was either. What I did know was that there was an age gap. A rather significant one, but my body did not care. Instead it was…giddy whenever he appeared. And even without the age gap, I didn’t know anything about myself. Getting giddy over a man wasn’t good. I might be…married. That word felt so foreign to me that I found the possibility hard to believe.
Dropping my gaze to my ring finger, I studied it for a moment. I couldn’t tell if I normally had a ring on or not. There wasn’t a tan line. My skin was an olive complexion naturally. I didn’t have tan lines on my body anywhere. It was possible that whoever had beaten me had taken my ring or rings, if I’d been wearing one. But then the doctor had said I had older bruising on my body. They didn’t believe I’d been hurt by a stranger.