Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 128356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
The earthy scent of winter is laced with the faintest trace of smoke from chimneys burning somewhere far below.
Graystone Ridge unfolds beneath us in a vast sprawl of winding streets and towering buildings, their golden lights flickering like tiny stars trapped behind glass.
The town looks peaceful from this distance, softened by the night, but the view does nothing to calm the faint disturbance clinging to my bones.
Jude stares at the horizon, both hands in his jeans pockets. The wind tugs at the loose strands of his dark hair, and even as he fixates on the town, he doesn’t look like he belongs to the world below. He belongs to the dark, deep, and mysterious night.
His shoulders are rigid, every line of him drawn with tension I don’t understand the reason behind.
Well, I do.
I think he’s mad that I was with Preston. I know he doesn’t like that we’ve gotten close, but then again, he’s never been like this whenever he joins us for lunch.
And I’m not supposed to feel this bad.
Don’t blame yourself for others’ actions or fluctuating emotions or what you can’t control, right?
Yeah, I need time to apply that to my life, because I’m tugging at my dress, wishing I’d worn jeans instead. This whole thing was a huge mistake, it seems.
Standing a short distance away, I pretend to be mesmerized by the view. “You think Preston will be okay?”
I realize my mistake when Jude cocks his head in my direction, his eyes glinting like a feral beast’s. When he speaks, his voice is calm but edgy. “Why are you asking?”
“I’m just worried about him. Marcus is bad news from what I’ve heard, and Preston seemed off.”
That doesn’t ease Jude’s expression.
If anything, a deep line appears between his eyebrows, and his nostrils flare. “You’re worried about him.”
It’s not a question, but I nod. “Aren’t you worried about him, too? Surely, you know Marcus is violent. Have you seen his busted knuckles?”
“I’m violent, too. Does that make me a threat to Preston, whom you’re so worried about?”
“You guys are best friends.”
“Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t hurt him. After all, he was comfortable flirting with what’s mine.”
I bite the inside of my cheek and flick my thumb over my wrist. “So that’s what you’re mad about?”
“Mad? Try fucking enraged, Violet.” He storms in my direction, and I gasp when he wraps a huge arm around my waist and pulls me flush against him. “I don’t like others coveting what’s fucking mine, especially when you look like this.”
“You should’ve killed me, then.” I look away, my stomach falling at his words.
Jude’s rough gloved fingers grip my jaw and pull me back to face his furious eyes. “The fuck you just say?”
I lift my chin, staring him square in the face. “The only way to stop others from looking at me is if you kill me. I can’t exactly be invisible or only exist for your eyes, you know.”
He narrows his eyes, his gorgeous face not as closed off as earlier, and his huge body partially melts around mine—only partially, though. “That mouth of yours seems to talk back a lot when you’re with me.”
I pause.
I do.
I mean, it’s been more frequent lately. In the beginning, I was too scared of him to dare talk back as often. Eventually, little by little, the fear disappeared, and I kind of…what? Felt comfortable enough to show my true self?
Somehow, I stopped worrying about disappointing him or being a burden or just annoying him.
Is it because he’s never made me feel judged?
“Would you rather I didn’t?” I whisper.
“You can talk back all you want, but don’t flirt with other men.”
“I wasn’t. We were just talking. Besides, he saved me from a gunman.”
His expression darkens, his arm around me tightening. “What?”
Placing a tentative hand on his chest, I tell him about the attack in the parking lot and that the man on the motorcycle looked exactly the same as the one who attacked Mario and me twice. The gunman who’s the reason Mario is in a coma in the first place.
“So yeah,” I finish. “If Preston hadn’t come in time, I wouldn’t be here.”
“Jesus Christ.” He slides his hand over his face. “I’ll need to assign you security.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I want to. There’s no way in fuck I’ll let you roam around unprotected while some psycho is out to kill you.” He releases a breath. “Until I find out who’s behind these murder attempts, you’ll have to put up with it.”
I smile a little.
“What?” he asks, watching me closely.
“Nothing, it’s just odd that you’re protecting me when you wanted to kill me not too long ago.”
“Odd,” he repeats but says nothing else, seeming deep in thought.
I might have suspected it before, but I’m certain now. Julian was definitely lying about Jude trying to kill me. Judging by his expression right now, he seems murderous that anyone would even try to hurt me.