Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 86168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
I chew my lip. Gem’s back at the apartment. She’s safe and sound. I’m not worried about her. I could go stay there too, but I have a feeling Stellan will like it more if I’m here tonight.
Since when do I care what he wants?
“Screw it,” I mutter and storm into the house. Stellan’s security system uses biometrics and it clicks open when I touch the handle.
The interior’s dim. But I get why Gem loves the place. It’s absolutely beautiful. There’s a big bay window overlooking the front street and lots of gleaming wood. The panels must’ve been lovingly carved a long time ago. The carpets are rich and lush, and the floors make very soft creaking sounds. I imagine years and years of feet treading these same paths over and over again.
Hard to see Stellan in this place. I expected something sleeker and more modern from him. Like a high-rise condo or whatever. Instead, this house reeks of history.
I feel a little strange standing all alone in the foyer, at least until I hear a noise upstairs.
I pause, listening closely, heart racing suddenly.
It’s the water running. And someone grunting with frustration.
Sighing, I start up the stairs. Somehow that grunt has become all too familiar. Despite my best efforts.
I find Stellan in the bathroom standing in front of the mirror. His shirt is off and his pants look like they were dipped in a campfire. He’s dabbing at minor cuts all over his neck and face, putting some kind of antiseptic on them. He’s grimacing and looks like he’s right on the edge of killing someone.
“Is this going to be a pattern?” I ask.
He doesn’t react. I’m a little disappointed when I realize he knew I was there. “In what way?”
“You show up randomly at night and need medical care?”
“You might want to get used to it.”
I gently check his wounds. Nothing looks too bad, though the burn on his leg probably needs a real doctor. “I can’t really do much for you.”
“That’s fine. I don’t need stitches.”
“What happened?”
“You really don’t want to know.”
“Actually, I do.” I touch his bare shoulder. The muscle is thick and strong. I glance at his chest and run my eyes over the black, dangerous tattoos. Scars and puckered flesh litter his exposed torso. This is a man who is very used to pain.
“Someone tried to kill me. They didn’t do a good job.”
“I see that. What’d they use? A flamethrower?”
“Car bomb.”
“Oh. Right. Of course.” I try not to think about how this conversation isn’t making me gibber and scream with terror. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I appreciate the concern, but I’m fine.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
He glances at me. His stare is hard and hungry. That finally sets alarm bells ringing. But he only tightens his lips. “You can meet my family.”
“What is that going to do, exactly?”
“I’m in a unique situation.” He grunts when I dab antiseptic onto the worst of his cuts. “There is no leader of our organization. The council—”
“By leader, you mean there’s no Don of your mafia?”
“Yes, and stop interrupting me.”
I flick one of his cuts. “Don’t be a prick.”
He grunts, glares at me, and continues talking. “The council is willing to give me the position, just like my father wanted, but they need me to prove that I’m a good, long-term solution. Which means marriage.”
“Oh, great, now it makes sense. You need me to prove that you’re a responsible steward of your criminal gang.”
“More or less. But it gets worse.”
“Can’t imagine how, but go ahead.”
“There’s a conflict. Another organization has been pushing slowly onto our turf. But we’re currently weak because we have no official leader.”
“Which is why you’re pushing me so hard.” I step back to admire my handiwork. All his slices and nicks are disinfected and covered in little bandages. God, he really is attractive. The more I look at him, the more I think about that night in his car, and the more I think about that—
The more I really need to get the heck away from him.
But Stellan doesn’t put his shirt on. Instead, he sits on the edge of the tub and looks at his leg. With a frustrated grunt, he finds an ointment in the cabinet and begins to apply it awkwardly. I take over a second later with an aggrieved sigh, figuring it’s better if I do it than let him end up with an infection.
“The war won’t get close to you, in case you’re worried,” he says softly as my fingers trail along his calf. I finish taping the bandage to his leg and look up. I’m on my knees in front of him, and his eyes are surprisingly soft. Normally, he’s looking at me like he wants to kill me. But not right now.
“How can you be so sure?”