Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
When Webber left for work tomorrow, I’d be heading out.
Hopefully, that allowed me to have a bit more confidence, too.
I couldn’t stay cooped up at Webber’s forever.
One, it wasn’t healthy to stay inside that much.
Two, I had a feeling if I put it off any longer, I would never get back out there.
Three, I was desperate to see something other than Webber’s house.
I wanted to go to Target and aimlessly walk through the aisles and buy stuff I didn’t need.
I wanted to go to Tractor Supply and see the chicks that I knew would be out.
I wanted to go roll around on the mats at Slow Roll and get sweaty.
Decision made that I would not be this weak, timid woman anymore, I got up and walked to the bathroom, surveying myself in the mirror.
My hair was down around my shoulders, long and slick because I’d washed it this morning and blow dried it.
My eyes still had some bruising under them, but everything was fading away.
I could probably cover up what was left with some makeup and no one would be the wiser.
I was skinnier.
I’d lost some weight, but likely that was all muscle because I hadn’t been able to go to Jiu Jitsu and get a workout in.
I poked one cheek where there was an underlying bruise that was stubbornly staying ever present, then turned around and marched out of the room.
Both sets of eyes came my way when I walked into the living room.
Webber’s went dark with fury and Cakes grinned wildly. “Well hello there, Silver. Our fearless leader’s old lady.”
I tilted my head. “I’m not old.”
Cakes’ grin got even bigger. “Never said you were old. Just that you were his old lady. It’s a biker term. You need to start cramming since you’re gonna be the head old lady in charge.”
My brows rose and I looked to Webber. “Is old lady a bad thing?”
His eyes went from my bare legs to my eyes as he said, “No. It’s what you are. You’re mine.”
I sighed and crossed my arms over my chest, which only served to make the t-shirt I was wearing shorter.
Though, Webber was fairly huge, and his t-shirts reflected that. I still had about four inches to spare before anything vital was showing.
“What are you doing here, Cakes?” I asked.
Cakes eyes flicked to Webber, then back to me. “Uhhh…”
“You can talk freely in front of her,” Webber murmured. “I’ll tell her anyway.”
Cakes nodded, then said, “There’s been no sign of Cadence Moran. The father, the FBI director, has also fallen off radar. They’ve both taken leave of absences with their respective departments, though Moran took hers before she was fired but won’t actually have a job to come back to. Anyway, they’re smart and they’re not using any of their cards or known cell phones, so we can’t track them that way. Pretty much what I was telling Webber before you came in here, they’re ghosts, and we have no way to track them until they actually want to be found.”
I nodded. “Is there anything else?”
His lips twitched. “Your dad moved out of state.”
“Awesome,” she said. “And that’s it?”
“That’s it,” he confirmed.
“Then you need to get out of here, because I’m about to take my shirt off, and Piers might not like you seeing my boobs,” I said as I grabbed the hem of my shirt.
Cakes laughed then turned around and gave me his back.
I had my t-shirt off before he was out the door.
Piers watched as I took it off and dropped it to the floor.
He didn’t make a move, which only pissed me off more.
“I’m not breakable, Piers!” I bellowed, throwing my arms up in the air.
Cakes cleared his throat and said, “I’m just gonna head out. Let me know what you want to do…later.”
Cakes exited, and I didn’t even care.
I stayed glaring at the man that wouldn’t. Fucking. Touch. Me.
Not only wouldn’t he touch me, but now he was telling me I was weak and breakable, and maybe it would be best for me not to ride on the back of his bike with him, but in a stupid truck by myself, on a poker run?
Absolutely not.
I refused to go if I wasn’t going to be on the back of his bike.
“You’re not breakable?” he asked, coming in close. “If you’re not breakable, why did you piss blood for a week?”
I snapped my mouth shut.
“If you’re not breakable, why did me holding you in my arms cause you pain for three full days?”
I crossed my arms over my chest and narrowed my eyes.
“If you’re not breakable, then why the fuck did I watch you wince every time you put on your panties the first three days?” he continued.
I didn’t have an answer for that.
“You had bruises on almost every inch on the left side of your body,” he continued. “You had abrasions and contusions. Your eyes literally just opened up well enough to see for the first time in two weeks. Today, I watched you laugh and not wince in pain. So tell me, Silver. If you’re not breakable, why the fuck were you acting like it? Looking like it?”