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)
Elliot’s face was a mask of fury as an air of menace overcame his whole being, a violence that I didn’t think he was capable of embodying.
“If you’re here, I’ll be worrying about something happening to you instead of taking apart the fucker who made you bleed with my bare hands.” His nostrils flared. “Go. To. The. Fucking. Closet.”
His command was filled with desperation and rage. I almost obeyed him out of fear. Fear for Elliot, who I hadn’t thought I’d have the occasion to be afraid of. Yet he was fearsome then.
Instead, I jutted up my chin. “No. If this is going to be my end, I’ll not be doing it hiding in a closet. I’ll be doing it fighting for you.”
I struggled out of his grip. Doing so forcibly was the only way he’d let me go, yet I was rewarded with a stabbing pain radiating through my arm as I did so.
Elliot almost ground his teeth to dust, his jaw visibly tightening while watching me. I knew he was considering making me go bodily, he was that desperate. Angry. Dangerous. I could feel it radiating from him, a fierceness I hadn’t fathomed him capable of.
“Fuck!” His roar was so loud and uncontrolled, I flinched.
Me.
I hadn’t even flinched when I’d gotten shot, yet doing so when the most even-keeled person I’d encountered had an outburst of pure fury and frustration.
He crossed the distance between us then pushed me behind him, as if he wanted to fuse me there.
“You’re behind me at all times,” he ordered, voice gruff, eyes trained on the front door.
“I don’t cower behind men I care about, using them as a human shield.” I moved to stand at his side. “I’m beside you at all times.”
Again, he risked a glance at me, his stormy eyes blazing with anger. But I didn’t waver. I couldn’t.
The argument between us served as a comfortable distraction from the reality of us being pursued by an armed offender with no weapon of our own. No defenses. My saliva turned to ash in my mouth as I waited for someone to burst through the door. Waited for death.
But it didn’t come.
After a very long and tense waiting period that could’ve been a handful of minutes or hours, sirens sounded. Low at first then louder as they raced down Elliot’s drive. I saw his body relax from my periphery.
But not entirely. Not until the solid knock at the door signified that help was there. He didn’t look at me, didn’t hug me in relief. Didn’t speak to me at all. He took long, purposeful strides to the door, answering it with a calm tenor before directing the paramedics to me.
Then he was lost in the fray of bodies swarming the small space, and I was manhandled by well-meaning professionals when all I wanted was the safety of Elliot’s arms.
But I gritted my teeth against instinct, thankful that he was alive and cognizant that it was probably in his best interest to stay far from me. Maybe that’s what he’d realized—that getting shot at wasn’t worth great sex with an abrasive woman.
Good. That was good.
Then why did the mere thought hurt more than being grazed by a bullet?
Sixteen
We Are Loved — The Avett Brothers
Finn, the chief, took both of our statements with a crease between his brows. He was younger than me but didn’t look it right then. The man had grown up here, and apparently, he considered the town and its inhabitants to be his responsibility. He was taking this shooting as some kind of personal failure, as if he could control all variables. As if he should’ve had some superior sense that someone in Jupiter had nefarious intent.
All well-meaning alpha males were essentially the same creature with different facial features, I decided. Since Elliot had had the same kind of self-blame etched on his face the entire time, especially while the EMT dressed my wound. I’d managed to talk him into stitching it then and there, despite whatever protocols he was supposed to follow.
The woods were scoured, and no one was found. Just some tire tracks on an old road and some shell casings. It took a while for all the investigating to be done. Finn stayed the entire time, hands-on, which I found impressive. He was handsome and stern yet kind and had a no bullshit air about him. But he was a little too perceptive as a lot of his questions had focused on me and my potential enemies in New York.
He was definitely smart enough to know that the well-liked, born and raised in Jupiter Elliot Shaw was unlikely to be the target of such an attack.
If that’s what it was. There was speculation about it being a hunting trip gone wrong. Despite it being the wrong season with not much of value to hunt in the woods. I told the well-meaning and sharp-eyed sheriff as little as possible, mindful of Elliot being damn near glued to my side, even if he didn’t look me in the eye or speak to me.