Total pages in book: 187
Estimated words: 174623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
My body hums at the thought as my cheeks fill with enough heat to make me wish he was looking at someone else.
I know too much about him to even consider he'd put his hands on me. His touches have been so brief, I know better than to think he'd consider our kiss enough for him to touch me without permission, especially since he was so adamant that there was something in our kiss that told him I wasn't as up for it as I was acting.
"The knock startled me," I say as I step to the side.
He doesn't hesitate to walk into the apartment and close and lock the door behind him.
It feels less like a power play and more like he knows how much I value my safety.
"Is something wrong?" I ask when he doesn't move further into the apartment.
He shakes his head. "No hint that Whitmore is close or that he has someone watching you."
"That's good," I say, my head working overtime to nod as if subconsciously I'm trying to convince myself that things aren't as bad as they seem.
"We'd like you to come to the clubhouse for a meeting," he says, his eyes staying on mine.
Instinctively, I drop my eyes to his mouth when he speaks.
I don't know if I do this with everyone or if something inside me just wants to focus on that part of him.
I turn, giving him my back as I walk toward the kitchen, picking up the glass of water he tried to give me earlier.
I lift it to my lips, using it as a distraction and a stalling tactic.
The liquid is still cool as I take a drink, but swallowing it feels like most of it lodges in my throat, creating a painful bubble as it works its way down.
My first instinct is to refuse a trip to the Cerberus property, but my mind argues.
They have the gate, the armed guards, and the military-level protection that would give me the chance to take a breath. What I wouldn't give to let my body have a few moments to settle.
I really think I could use a moment when my body can reboot, no matter how long that opportunity lasts.
"Okay," I whisper, turning back toward him in time to see the surprise on his face.
I can tell he thought I was going to refuse, and I don't know what his next step would be if I had. I doubt he'd physically force me out the door, but I know he wouldn't be happy if I rejected his request.
I pause my steps, needing clarification, both from him and in my mind.
Am I going because I want to avoid the confrontation with him?
Or am I going because I really feel like it's what's best?
"What would happen if I said no?" I ask, somehow having enough courage to ask him these things when I never would've challenged Graham this way.
"I guess the guys would come here to talk to you," he says with a shrug. "I don't know how you'd feel about them in your personal space."
The last part doesn't seem threatening, if taken at face value, and I don't think he said it to incite fear, but the idea of strange men in my space doesn't sound appealing at all.
"I'll go," I say, giving him a tight smile.
He checks the peephole before opening the door, keeping me behind him as he holds out his hand for me to give him the keys.
The walk to the vehicle is quick, and we both look around to make sure we don't see anything out of the ordinary.
The sun is setting, casting the most beautiful color across the sky, and part of me hates Graham even more.
This is just one more thing he took from me.
I love sunsets, but standing outside or even in a window to watch them has seemed unsafe for years. I could picture someone waiting nearby with a gun, waiting for the chance to put a bullet in me. It didn't seem worth the risk, so I gave them up.
Nyx opens the passenger side door of the SUV, waiting for me to climb inside before closing the door and walking all the way around to the driver's side.
Graham would hold doors open for me if he thought he had an audience. He always had to look the part of the loving, helpful husband. When we were alone, it was a different story. I can't count the number of times he sat in the car, staring at me as I tried to open the locked door. He'd cackle like a toddler, his immature actions giving him a thrill.
One SUV pulls out of my apartment parking lot behind us, and another stays behind.
The ride to the clubhouse is spent in silence, despite the millions of things running through my head.