Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 115435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
He.
Fucking.
Drugged.
My.
Angel.
The fuck?
Seeing red, I yank the piece of shite back by the collar and punch him in the nose, breaking it and sending blood spraying all over the place. He moans and covers his face with his hands.
When I glance back, I see Billie sliding down the truck and sitting on the concrete, and I want to kill this arsehole.
“Hey!” he cries out, waving one hand out in front of him. “What the fuck, man!”
“Did you fucking drug her?”
“What we’re doing is none of you—”
I pull him up by the shirt and punch him in the jaw three times, satisfied when I feel it give under my knuckles. It’s either broken or dislocated.
He moans again, his eyes rolling back in his head.
“Answer me, you worthless piece of shite.”
“She wanted me,” he mutters as blood runs down from his nose and into his teeth. “Fucking slut wanted it.”
Grabbing his wrist, I twist it and feel the bones give, ignoring the keening wail this idiot lets out in response.
“I should kill you.” My voice is calmer than I feel as I let go and watch him drop onto the concrete, twisting in pain. “But my girl wouldn’t like that.”
With him writhing on the ground, I turn and pick up Billie and carry her to my SUV, get her settled in the passenger seat, and buckle her in. I kiss her forehead and brush the hair back from her face with shaky hands. She moans, and pure rage and helplessness consume me as her eyebrows pull together and she whimpers.
“Sick,” she says.
“Are you going to be sick, angel?”
She nods, and I unbuckle her in time to pull her over the side of the car. She throws up, barely missing my shoes.
Not that I give a fuck. She could retch all over the car, all over me, and I couldn’t care less. It’s the fact that she’s hurting at all that has me out of my bloody mind.
“Good.” I use my shirt to wipe off her mouth. “Good girl, you need to get that poison out of you. Did you drink the whole thing, baby?”
She whimpers again. Her eyes are closed, and I need to know how much she drank.
“Billie. Can you look at me?”
She forces her eyes open and scowls. “Connor?”
“It’s me. You’re safe, angel. Did you drink the whole drink?”
“No. Few sips.”
Thank Christ.
“I’m taking you home, bumble. I’ve got you.”
I get her buckled back in, then spare a look at the idiot on the ground. He’s sitting up, cradling his wrist against his chest. I rush around to the driver’s side and pull out of the car park, watching Billie closely as I navigate through town.
“I live ten minutes away,” I assure her as I reach over and press the back of my hand to her forehead. She doesn’t feel warm, but her breathing is shallow, and she keeps whimpering. “Billie, can you hear me? I need you to talk to me, angel.”
“Thirsty.” She licks her lips, and her head moves back and forth against the seat as if she’s agitated. I wish I could pull her into my arms and comfort her.
“Okay, it’s okay, gorgeous, we’ll get you some water. It’s not far now.”
I should have killed that motherfucker. I’m going to ruin his life.
The gate at my property recognizes my vehicle and automatically opens, and I drive down the long driveway to my house. I bought this ten-acre property earlier this year when I decided to buy the ski resort that had burned down last Thanksgiving and rebuild it as a Gallagher Hotels property. I knew I’d be here for the entire build and didn’t want to live in a hotel.
For once in my adult life, I wanted a home base.
And this house suits my needs well. It’s more of a mansion, with mountain views and a lodge aesthetic, but the best part is, it’s private, with a guesthouse for Miller and other men I might have with me at any given time.
The lights are on inside, and I scoop Billie into my arms and carry her in and through to the family room off the kitchen, where I spend a lot of time. It’s comfortable, with a deep sectional sofa, and I can grab anything she might need from the kitchen.
“Here, a stór,” I say as I settle her into the corner of the sofa. “I’m getting you water. Do you feel sick again?”
“Tired,” she mutters, nuzzling against the back of the couch. “Sleep.”
“Let me get some water in you.”
I rush to the kitchen and grab a water bottle from the fridge. I help her take a few sips before she lies back and seems to fall into a restless sleep.
“Fuck me,” I mutter, rubbing my hand over my neck.
I call her brother Blake. Ironically, I have all of her brothers’ contact info, but I don’t have hers.