Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 70488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Even in the middle of Iraq, I’d seen her on the news.
That was when I’d fallen for her.
For five years now, I’d looked at that photo of her and wondered about her.
For five years, I obsessed about a person that I would never meet.
But then she walked into a club party with her brother, and my entire life had rearranged itself. Around her.
I knew that one day she would be mine.
I also knew that I had to play this safe.
Creed was protective as fuck over his sister. When I’d approached her the first time, he’d pulled me aside and asked me to stay away from her.
I couldn’t say I blamed him.
Before she’d walked into my life, I’d been with quite a few women. Always searching for the one that I would never have. The women were like water to me. I used them because they were necessary to function, but there was nothing special about them. I didn’t want more past the quenching of my thirst.
And I hadn’t necessarily treated them all that well, either.
I never made any promises.
I never tried to take anything further than a night. What would be the point when my obsession lay around someone else?
I’d built my reputation brick by brick.
That was why, when Creed told me to stay the hell away from her, I had.
For a time.
But, because I was obsessed with her, I didn’t let her slip away.
In fact, I’d gone about ensuring that she was safe and protected, watching her every move.
Watching her, though, came with a downside.
I saw the way she suffered, and I fucking hated it.
Hence the medication in my truck that I kept there for her.
Just in case.
“Because there were several other people that were killed that looked like you. An agent that was tied to your case. And I don’t believe in coincidences. Your mom went missing.” I frowned. “You just internet searched her name?”
“I do a Google search of the town every now and then. To keep up with everything. Just in case I ever hear anything about the serial killer,” she explained. “I guess you’re right. But like I said. I made no apologies for how much I hated my mother. Why would he go after her when he knows that I won’t give a shit?”
“Because she looks like you?” I guessed. “I don’t know.”
“Well, what do you know?” She pinched me.
My lips twitched. “Do you want to know the truth?”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Of course I want to know the truth.”
I stood, dropped down to a crouch, and my hands went to either side of her hips. “I’ve wanted you for five years.”
She blinked. “You what?”
“I saw you on television when I was in the middle of Iraq,” I said. “Watched you plead your case to a news crew in front of the state capitol. Begging for them to give your brother a chance. Watched as you begged and pleaded, and no one did a thing.”
Her mouth fell open.
“Had no clue who you were at the time,” I said. “Just that you were hot as fuck, and you looked pretty when you cried.”
“You think when people cry they’re pretty?” she questioned.
I leaned forward so that my nose was only inches from hers before I said, “I think you’re pretty when you cry. I don’t think about anyone else anymore. I especially haven’t thought about anyone else since you came into town.”
She bit her lip, and I reached up and pulled her lip free from her teeth.
“Let me go get my clothes,” I said and stood up. “Don’t leave.”
Fourteen
I giggle before I argue. Gotta start my engine.
—Bernice’s secret thoughts
Bernice
I had the TV on mute, and I was reading the subtitles of the show I was watching, a C-Drama that had snatched my attention from the moment I turned it on hours ago, when there was a shift outside my door.
Movement.
Then the bathroom door closed.
I looked at the red numbers on my alarm clock, then bit my lip.
I was really thirsty.
Pausing my movie, I uncocooned myself from the covers and shivered.
Thinking I could just be quick since I’d just heard Hux enter the bathroom, I opened the door and walked quietly to the kitchen where I opened the cabinet next to the fridge and glanced inside.
All of my glasses were dirty.
I looked at the dishwasher and groaned.
“That’s what you get for being a procrastinator, Bernice,” I grumbled to myself.
“What?”
I jumped and whirled, staring at Hux in the doorway of the kitchen with his shirt off.
The only light was from the green numbers glowing on the microwave and the moonlight bouncing off the snow shining into the kitchen window.
“What, what?” he repeated as I willed my heart rate to settle.
“Being a procrastinator,” I said. “I haven’t run the dishwasher yet because I wanted to put more stuff in it. But I didn’t cook at home yesterday, so I never filled it up the rest of the way. And I used my last glass before bed to put some warm milk in.”