Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 57028 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57028 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
She glares at me, half jokingly, half real, the constant conflict blazing in her eyes. “I think you take what you want and you don’t care about the consequences.”
I spin, and she pushes against me. I don’t move, letting her tire herself out. She blows a wayward strand of hair from her forehead and raises her hands again.
I can’t help but smirk. “Are you going to run?”
She smiles–then wipes it away as if she’s trying to stay mad. Perhaps she thinks last night was a mistake. But no, I don’t think it’s that. I think she’s keen to assert herself, to remind me that while she’s staying, she’s still Evie with all the independence and vivacity that comes along with her, being her…
As if I’d want her any other way.
“Are you making fun of me?”
It’s a simple question.
“Do you always tease the girls you kidnap?”
This ruins the fun somewhat. “I’ve never kidnapped anyone.”
“Before me.”
I hesitate. “That was for your safety.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Keep telling yourself that.”
I rush at her, feinting one way, then springing the other. With a gentle sweep of my legs, I knock her off-balance, but I catch her before she can hit the ground. I push my lips against hers, loving the way she gasps and moans caught off-guard.
After the kiss, she says, “I thought we were done with that tired old story?”
“You can’t blame me for rising to your level…or sinking to it.”
“So I’m morally corrupting you, huh, Mr. Don? I’m the bad guy here?”
I was probably an idiot for thinking her certainty would last untouched into the light of day, for believing that she would want me, need me, and nothing else, with no confusion or doubt. But she’s here, and that means everything.
I kiss her again, lifting her off her feet. She moans through the fusion of our lips and wraps her legs around me. I press her against the wall, angling so that she can feel my throbbing mass through my shorts.
“Anybody would think you get off on sassing me.”
“Well–anybody would be right.”
“Have you thought about what I said? About staying here? About…”
“Leaving?” she murmurs. “It’s like you can’t say the word.”
I gently put her down, hold her hands, our touch entwined with the MMA gloves, as if symbolizing that we’re going to fight through this. Together.
“That’s because I can’t. I don’t even want to think about it. I know we had a less-than-ideal beginning, but that doesn’t mean we’ll have a bad ending.”
“I want to stay,” she says. “That hasn’t changed. But it makes me feel guilty. It makes me feel like a silly little girl, honestly, like Mason when he…”
She turns away, tragedy making her voice raspy.
“What did Mason do?” I say, voice trembling, struggling not to yell the question.
I know some of it, of course. What he did to her mom, twisted her mind. But is there more?
“How long until you find him?” she asks.
“You’re changing the subject.”
“And you’re ignoring my question.”
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “They’re skilled at hiding in the cave systems. I fucked up yesterday letting them get away.”
“You freed their women, though. That’s how Mason thinks of them. His women. Like property. He was never shy about that.”
“But they’re still out there, and the deadline’s almost up,” I snarl. “Which means he’s going to release that video of you. Meaning that sad, pathetic prick is going to ruin your life.”
She puts her hand on my chest as if touching my heart, then looks bravely up at me. “That’s why you have to let me help.”
“How?”
“I can draw Mason out. I can meet with him. I can—”
“Meet with him?” I interrupt. “No. No fucking way. Why would you even suggest something like that? Dammit, Keepsake. If I let those psychos anywhere near you, they’ll do God knows what.”
“Mason has a soft spot for me. I’m the only person who can get his defenses down.”
“What’d you mean, a soft spot?”
She turns away, refusing to look me in the eye. Her eyes glisten, like she’s holding back tears. I caution myself to calm down, knowing no good can come from me losing my cool, but I hate the idea of that twisted psycho having any sway over my Evie.
“I’ve never told anyone this. Not even Mom. Not Tash. No one.”
She distances herself, leans against the wall, then slides down it as if her legs have given out. When I try to get closer to her, she snaps, “Don’t.” She stares into space, reminding me of… well, me, those nights I’ve woken from a terror, glanced at myself in the mirror and seen the shell shock in my eyes.
“I’ll tell you,” she goes on, “but please, don’t say anything. Don’t interrupt. You need to understand who he is, so you know why I need to do this. Need to end this. Him. Need to end him.”