Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 105709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Time dissolves into nothing but movement and touch until Yana pipes up beside us, her cool fingers circling my wrist and tugging me back to reality.
“Come on, my little dancer. Time to get home!”
She’s probably right. Nothing good ever happens when I’m hurt and drunk.
“Yana!” I holler from my room the next morning because apparently I didn't stay awake long enough last night to remember getting back.
She runs in with her toothbrush hanging out of her mouth, her little lace boy shorts on, and a “Woodsmen” shirt hanging proudly off her body.
I grin, pushing myself up onto my forearms. “Well, don't you look cute.”
Her eyes narrow before she flips me off and walks back to the bathroom. At least she stayed last night.
“You know, I think it's good you being here…” I tease, because the more she's around everyone, the more they warm to her, like I knew they would.
She mumbles something that sounds strangely close to Fuck you.
I throw the covers off my body, the fabric billowing as I spring from bed. My bare feet pad across the floor as I follow the sound of her mumbling. “What's on the agenda for today?” I ask, leaning against her doorframe with a lingering smile.
“You,” she glares, “have to think about your actions!”
“Pardon? Are you my mother?” I ask in mock disgust as if I need another person telling me how to live my life.
She rolls her eyes. “Cut down the drinking.”
“Not going to happen.” No way I'm giving up the one thing that actually makes this life bearable sometimes.
My phone buzzes against the coffee table, the screen lighting up with a new message. I swipe it open, waiting as the image loads agonizingly slow.
When it finally appears, my stomach drops. A single tree stands rogue against a grey sky, its branches twisted and bare. Not just any tree. That tree. The one outside the cathedral in Prague, where I spent that week. Where Millie...
My fingers tremble as I zoom in, searching for any clue about who sent this. No name, no number, an unknown contact. The timing can't be coincidental, not after Millie's call.
“What's wrong?” Yana asks, her voice cutting through my spiral. “You look like you've seen a ghost.”
I lock my screen quickly, forcing a smile that feels brittle. “Nothing. Work stuff.”
But my mind races. Only two people know about that tree, about what happened there. Millie. My mother.
I delete the message with shaking hands, but the image burns behind my eyelids.
Bleach and something metal. The crying. Church bells. Snow…
HELLA
Yana approaches Ripper, and I chuckle, tilting my head in her direction.
Beast tracks my gaze with an eye roll. “I bet she's curious about the story behind his nickname.”
I shrug. “Fuck knows, but the kid is good at what he does.”
“Seen Melissa?” Beast asks with amusement.
“Fuck you.”
I spot her right away. She's perched on one of the couches, chatting with Bullet. Bullet's a Woodsman, but he's a nomad, and this is my territory, so he better mind his fucking business.
I couldn't give a fuck that someone else's lips were wrapped around my dick last night. I never gave any promises to Melissa. If anything, she should be happy. It gives her yet another reason to hate me.
It doesn't matter that when my cock released its load to the back of said girl's throat, it was Melissa's blue eyes peering up at me, and it was Melissa's light blonde hair wrapped around my fist, and it was Melissa's damn fucking lips latched around my shaft. Yeah, that means nothing at all.
Beast rises from the couch to claim Yana. Stupid motherfucker. I don't know why he's delaying shit with her. She's rusty, sure. A little too clean, but that's where the fun is. Fuck them up. Make them dirty enough that it stains for a lifetime.
Jada enters and stops, cocking her head in my direction.
“What?”
Jada glares at me. “Get up, I need a drink.”
We both make our way to the bar. I grip my beer while Jada watches me closely as Beast and Yana settle in beside us. I recognize that look. She's itching to say something.
“Garret likes Melissa,” she finally blurts out.
“So?” I lift my brows. “Garret's into anyone who teaches him how to dunk a cookie.”
Jada pauses, her eyes narrowing on me. “How'd you know about that?”
“Little shit wouldn't shut up about it.” I shrug like its nothing, but it's me who drew him out, wanting to hear his take on her. The kid is a damn good judge of character. Don't know why I asked him what he thought of her, but I did.
“Why don't you two just talk?” Yana suggests, wrapping her lips around the neck of Beast's beer.
“Because,” I state. “I don't want an old lady.”
“What gives you the idea that's what she's after? She wants to murder you, Hella. I think you're protected from a level ten stalker,” Yana reassures me.