Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 90772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
“Unless her friend is sewn to her body, I don’t give a fuck,” I interrupt. “I haven’t been able to talk openly about her for four years. I haven’t even been able to say her goddamn name! I need to know everything. Starting with whether she has a boyfriend.”
“Umm, about that…listen, C. I don’t think you need to be driving for this convo. Let’s stop and grab some food and then you can read her file while I drive.”
I look over and glare at him, but I know he’s right. I’ll jerk the car into a tree if I get the wrong answers. I pull off at the next exit and we hit a diner. Before we get out of the car, Saint hands me two packages. One is a gun. I know immediately from the packaging and weight it’s my Kimber 1911. I take it out and slide it in the back waistband of my jeans.
“Your leather jacket is in the back. I suggest you put it on. Seeing as you’ve been out a total of three hours, let’s not break every law we can before the day is over,” Saint says, getting out of the car.
The second package is her file. Hers. I can’t even think her name. It’s like a kick in the nuts hearing him say it so casually. I haven’t said her name since she walked out of the prison that day. It was too painful to say it. I flip it open and there she is. The picture was taken in the summer. She’s wearing a tank top, cut-off shorts, and fuck-me four-inch wedges. Her long red hair is big and loud. I don’t know how she thought she could ever hide from anyone with hair like that. It looks like she’s walking away in the pic, but she’s glancing back over her shoulder, like she knows someone is there. “Good girl,” I mumble to no one.
I softly trace her body in the picture with my finger. I don’t realize I’ve zoned out until Saint taps on the driver-side window.
“I got some burgers to go. I’ll drive while you obsess.” The asshole is smirking at me. I don’t say anything, just unfold my big body out of the car and go around to the other side, all while clinging to her file. It’s everything I’ve missed since she “disappeared”. Kind of cute how she thought I wouldn’t keep both my eyes on her.
The next hours are spent with Saint driving and me looking at everything in the folder. I want to know everything I can before we get there. It’s almost a shame she doesn’t know I’m coming for her. She needs protecting and it’s time to get her out of her father’s reach. She may not know it, but I’m not the only one keeping tabs on her.
It’s late when we make it to the Kat House. The place looks like a fucking hole in the wall. I can’t believe my sweet girl would choose to hang out in a place like this. We pull in and get out of the car. Saint goes up to some shady-looking guy who I’m assuming is who has been watching Layla and they exchange words. I’m getting anxious. I can feel she’s close. I protected her for so many years; my body is attuned to her. I can almost tell you how many feet away she is.
Saint comes back over and the guy takes off. “She’s inside. They’re at a booth in the back. I’m going in to chat up her friend. You do your thing.” He pats my shoulder and gives me a sympathetic smile. “Don’t start a fight in there, C. You've only been out for a few hours and I don’t want your ass thrown back in.”
I nod, knowing we’re both thinking the same thing. If I walk into that bar and someone is all over her, I could possibly lose my shit. And she’s gonna be pissed when she sees me.
I reach around to feel that my gun is secure and my jacket is covering it. I want to walk around the perimeter of the building and check for exit points before I make my way in. I don’t want her trying to get away.
The place is big so it takes a few minutes before I’m around the back of the building. When I get there, I’m walking towards the exit door when it bangs open.
Out stumbles my girl.
She’s got on this scrap of a dress and those fuck-me heels she won’t stop wearing. I feel my cock get hard. She’s more beautiful than I remember. So much so, it almost hurts my eyes. She doesn’t notice me at first and I see her start to light a cigarette. What in the fuck? No.
I stomp over to her. When I’m a couple of paces away she looks up just as she’s about to light it. Her steel-gray eyes go wide and her juicy lips make a perfect O. Her hand goes lax and the cigarette drops to the ground, forgotten. I take the lighter from her other hand and throw it down. I grab her by the arms and back her up against the wall.
“Since when the fuck do you smoke?” I bark at her.
“Carter!” she shouts. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?” Her eyes are still wide with panic and she starts to struggle. I guess her fight-or-flight finally kicked in.
I can’t help but push closer to her. I close my eyes and lean down, nuzzling the space between her neck and shoulder.
“Layla,” I breathe.
After all these years, I’ve said her name. It comes out of my mouth like a prayer, a curse, and a promise all at once. I can finally touch her again and my heart may not make it through this moment. My puzzle piece just locked with hers and I’m complete.
“Carter. Oh God. What are you…oh God!” She leans into me but I can still feel her need to fight it. Her mind and body aren’t agreeing on anything at the moment. I nuzzle her neck and breathe in her scent, and she doesn’t know whether to be pissed or turned on.