Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 111676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Cassie parked, and I got out, walking to the drive where Wolf was crouched, heaving the wheel onto my car. Of course he was replacing my tires. Wolf had always taken care of stuff for me.
“You know you didn’t have to do this,” I said.
He looked up at me, squinting against the sun. “I know.”
“How much were new tires?” I could tell they weren’t new-new, but even scrap-new cost money. And four of them…fucking Megan.
“About a hundred bucks.” Damn. It was a bargain, but still a hundred more dollars I had to find. Not that I had much choice. I could limp along without a car for a while, but I needed it to get to work, class, home…
He grabbed the tire iron and tightened the bolts. “I know a guy.” A drop of sweat rolled between the muscles of his back. Jesus, there were lines and bulges everywhere.
“I’ll pay you back,” I blurted, my face getting warm.
I took a seat on the curb to watch him work, the same way I had a hundred times before. He and the guys sometimes had to fix up the cars they stole before taking them wherever it was they took them. They were all good with cars, but I loved watching the little line of concentration sink between Wolf’s brows, his smile when an engine started or ran smoother. There had been an innocent simplicity to it that was so rarely found in Dayton.
That shine of innocence had long since dulled from both of us, but sitting here like this reminded me of those simpler times. The fact that he was always shirtless was an added benefit for my one-track teenage mind. Evidently, I hadn’t grown out of that.
I focused back on the conversation. Paying him back… Not that either of us should have been paying for tires in the first place.
“I know who slashed my tires.”
He glanced over his tattooed shoulder. “Who?”
“Well, not my ex.” I tried not to be snippy with him. It wasn’t his fault— No, it kind of was his fault that he had terrible taste in psychos. “I met Megan earlier.”
He stopped tightening the lug nut, like he was afraid to move.
“Evidently, if I don’t stay away from you, she’ll—and I quote—slash more than my tires.”
His jaw clenched. “I’m going to fucking kill her.” No shock that it was her.
That confirmed my suspicion that he’d probably done more than just screw her. Before me, Wolf had been a man-whore of the worst kind. No way he’d have remembered a girl’s name unless she was a repeat. Or he actually liked her… That thought was a punch in the gut. Maybe Cassie was right. Setting fire to her car wasn’t just about the slashed tires.
“I already handled it—”
“What do you mean, you handled it?”
“Seriously, how can guys not see when a girl has psycho stamped on her forehead?”
“Jade,” he said slowly, staring at me like I was the crazy one. “What did you do?”
“Why do you care what I did?” I narrowed my eyes and studied his reaction. “Are you worried about Megan?”
“No. I’m worried about you going to jail. I know how you ‘handle’ shit, Jade.”
That he did.
“Just a little pyrotechnics.” There was no point in denying it. “I may be a terrible criminal, but I’ve set plenty of blazes, and I haven’t gone to jail yet.”
“You Dayton girls and fire,” he mumbled, turning back to the tire.
I stared at his back, trying to work him out. He didn’t seem very bothered. He didn’t even ask if I’d burned her house down—not that I would do that…which he knew. Did he care about her? Did he still find her attractive? I wanted to ask him if he’d dated her, but I refused to show just how irrationally jealous I was. I was supposed to have grown, become better, more secure. Besides, no one liked crazy, except, evidently, him, and Megan was a whole can.
Wolf lowered the jack to the ground while I took my phone out of my pocket. I typed out a message to Cassie, even though she was inside the house, looking for some kind of validation. Or for fuel on the flames of insanity. Which I clearly wanted, or I’d have messaged Monroe, the sane friend.
My phone dinged with an app notification, and my daily affirmation popped up on the screen: Live in the moment. And wasn’t that just well-timed advice.
“Tell PussyHunter69 I said fuck off.”
“Wow.” The jealousy in his voice delighted me, given the circumstances. “He really is living rent-free up there, isn’t he?”
He mumbled something under his breath while giving the nuts one last tighten. Even mad, my attention still went to his biceps as they flexed.
“Wolf!” Rogue shouted from the house. “Come help catch these rats! One bit Petey’s ginger ass.”
A trickle of alarm worked through me at the prospect of them actually catching Goose and Maverick. They’d kill the poor things.