Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 157162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
“She’s great.” The palpable weight on his shoulders the last time we’d spoken about her was gone. “More than great. Healthy. Her blood cell count is recovering faster than the doctors had hoped, which hopefully means she’ll be discharged from the hospital, back home and to some semblance of normalcy soon.” He side-eyed me. “She’s been asking about when you’re coming over next. You made an impression.”
“I tend to do that,” I shrugged cockily.
He didn’t smile. “Yes, you do,” he uttered seriously.
I tripped on something underfoot, being caught unaware by the seriousness of his tone. Elliot didn’t miss a beat as he took my weight, stopping me from falling.
I struggled to even my breathing. Such a simple thing, him catching me without a second thought, like it was natural. I’d never experienced a relationship where I knew I’d be caught before I could fall. Never let anyone think I was capable of falling.
“We’ll have dinner with them when she’s cleared for visitors,” he continued.
“We will, will we?” I asked, voice sharp. “You’re in charge of when I come, not who I have dinner with.” I didn’t even bother addressing the use of the royal we, since it equally scared the shit out of me and pleased me. Nor did I admit that I wanted to have dinner with Clara, to lay eyes on her and bask in the glow of knowing she was healthy, recovering. It was a balm to my ruined soul.
“You want to say no to dinner with Clara?” His hand tightened around mine.
“Of course, I won’t.” My teeth found my lip as I navigated the terrain, both physically and emotionally. “I’m just saying no to the concept of you monopolizing my time.”
Elliot stopped us abruptly, turning to face me. “Me planning a dinner with my woman and my family isn’t me monopolizing your time.” There was no hint of teasing on his face. “It’s me ensuring that you understand what I’m doing. You’re in my life, Calliope. Not half in, half out. You’re gonna be in my bed, naked, begging me for my cock. You’re gonna eat my food. Sit at a table with my family. Sleep next to me. That’s happening.”
I sucked in air. Or attempted to. It felt as if I were suffocating on his words. So plain yet so determined.
I liked that he controlled sex. But this was something else. This was controlling the whole direction of my life. Who I was.
Acting like I was his woman.
The title didn’t feel derogatory or like it took something from me.
It gave me something… Something I wasn’t worthy of.
His heart.
Going there had been a mistake. A huge mistake. I hadn’t thought through all of the ramifications, hadn’t factored in that Elliot wasn’t afraid of commitment. Commitment to me.
Before I could say anything, a low pop sounded. Then another. Then I felt a sharp pain in my arm, like a bee stung me. I was not proud of it, but I’d been rendered so speechless that I didn’t recognize the gunshots nor the bullet entering my flesh.
Elliot did.
His eyes went wide, then he tackled me to the ground, covering me with his body.
More pops…
I tasted dirt and blood in my mouth as my cheek pressed against fallen leaves. My arm burned. I calmly catalogued all of these things in my mind.
I struggled to think of a game plan. I was in unfamiliar territory, getting shot at by someone who had an obvious advantage. And as much as I was confident in dangerous situations, most of those were in boardrooms wearing designer armor, not face down in the dirt wearing fucking Lululemon while facing actual bullets.
“Calliope?” Elliot’s voice was urgent and worried.
“Alive,” I ground out, not letting the panic I felt seep into my voice. “Is it too much to ask that you be armed for your little nature walks?”
“Haven’t needed to be before now,” he said tightly.
Another pop then dirt kicked up to the left of us. Close. Far too close. My terror kicked in at the thought of one of those bullets hitting Elliot. His body was draped over mine, ensuring that I would not get shot.
“We can’t stay here.” I struggled from under him.
He had at least fifty pounds on me and was exerting his strength to keep me down. “I don’t disagree, but that’s making you vulnerable when you’re already hit.” His eyes were darting around the dense woods, likely looking for the attacker.
“I don’t give a fuck,” I hissed. “You’re not going to absorb the bullets.”
A split second. That was all it took. Elliot didn’t freeze under pressure. He made decisions. And in a split second, he was up, and we were running through the woods.
Or he was, with me in his arms.
“Put me down!” I demanded. “This is far too dramatic.” I didn’t struggle, because that could’ve caused him to trip, and we didn’t need him tripping in the midst of that shitshow.