Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 86230 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86230 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
It can’t be.
But one look of those almond-shaped eyes, and I know it’s her.
Like a bat out of hell, I run so damn fast toward her I think my ankles will break. But just before I reach the gate, one of the prospects steps in my way, and I come to a grinding halt. Oblivious to me, the prospect has told her to move along, but I push him aside and rip open the gate.
I take a step in her direction but stop. Our eyes meet. It’s been four months, and for every single second of them, I have ached for this moment.
But now that it’s here, I don’t know what to do.
We stare at each other, and each second bleeds with pain.
“You’re here,” is all I manage to say because my heart is a galloping horse in my chest.
“Yes.” Her voice is small, almost undetectable.
The warm summer breeze blows her silky curls around her perfect face, and I don’t waste another second. I pull her to my chest, wrapping my arms tightly around her because I’m so fucking happy she’s here. She holds on so tight, I can feel the rapid thump of her heartbeat racing in time with mine.
I pull back to look at her. “Are you okay?” I ask, dropping my forehead to hers. I wrap my fingers around her throat and brush my lips over hers. “Did they hurt you?”
So many thoughts fight for my attention, but none of them matter because she’s here, right in front of me.
When she pulls away, her eyes shift to the prospect, then over my shoulder to where my Kings of Mayhem brothers and their old ladies are watching us curiously from the lawn.
“Is there somewhere we can talk?”
I’m aching to kiss her, but I don’t.
Because four months is a long time for her to be gone and the radio silence that has stretched between us. And because there is that part of you that still isn’t sure if you’ve been played.
Ignoring my voice of doubt, I take her hand and lead her through the gates and into the clubhouse, ignoring the stares of Venom and Gambit, who are playing pool with a couple of club girls as we walk past them to my room.
Once I close the door behind me, I take her face between my palms. “Are you okay? What happened, Lily? Where have you been all this time?”
She looks away, nervous, and when she pulls away from me to sit on the edge of my bed, a feeling of dread runs up my spine.
“When you left, my father moved us straight away. He knew you’d come looking for me, and he knew you’d bring your army with you. So he fled in the middle of the night, and he forced me to go with him.”
“I did come looking for you, but by then, the hotel was nothing but a pile of ashes.”
She nods. “He torched it in typical Inferno style.”
“I also went to your apartment in Maiden Forks.”
She looks surprised. “You did? How did you find it?”
“The moment I left you, I did everything I could to find you. One of my brothers has contacts in law enforcement. Finding your address was easy but finding you proved harder.”
I hate the look of sadness on her beautiful face. She seems smaller. More fragile than when we were in the Inferno’s compound.
The questions that have haunted me over the past four months fill my mind.
What has she endured in the hands of the Inferno when I left?
What did they do to her?
Where has she been?
Why hasn’t she made contact with me?
Why is she here now?
Was Jack right, and you played me?
The last question has plagued me for months.
And if I’m honest, I’m not sure I want to know the answer.
Because, truthfully, it might kill me.
But when I glance at her charm bracelet on my bedside table, I know I need answers, and I need them now. So, I get up off the bed and move to the little table.
“I spoke to your neighbor. So, I know, Lily—”
“Know what?”
“I know you left willingly with your father.”
She stiffens, and when I hold up the charm bracelet, her eyes widen with surprise. “My bracelet. Where did you find it?”
“You really don’t know?”
She looks puzzled. “No, I lost it at the hotel.”
I study her, looking for—what? Lies?
“It was with Odin’s body when we found the burned-out car.”
Her expression changes as she reads between the lines. “And you thought I put it there?”
“No, your father did that. I’m just not sure if it was you who gave it to him so he could.” The moment the words leave my mouth, I regret them, and when I see the hurt flash through her expression, I feel like such an ass.
“Why would I give my father my bracelet to leave with…” Her eyes widen as she realizes what I mean, and she stands. “You think I gave my father my bracelet so he could put it with Odin’s body to trick you into thinking I was dead.”