Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 72756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
I swallow nervously, torn between desperately wanting to let him shred my crappy life to pieces with the promise in his eyes, and crawling back into it with my tail between my legs because it’s the only thing I know.
“Show me the way.”
9
SUMMER
“You aren’t taking me home, right?”
Devil laughs. “Not a chance, baby. We just picked a spot nearby in case we needed to do something crazy like rescue you. If I’d known you were going into town, I would’ve demanded a better fucking room.”
“Sorry,” I giggle. “Is—Are the others here?” What will Crash say if he sees us together? Not that it should matter. It’s not like he has any claim on me.
I glance up at Devil’s broad back, his clearly defined shoulder blades shifting as he unlocks and opens the door. There are more tattoos on his back, but the lines disappear under his shirt. I want to pull it off so I can trace them and see where they end up.
He shakes his head. “The rooms are small. We got one each, so no one else is in here. But the guys are around. Can’t promise he won’t show up.”
“Oh.” I follow him in, immediately slamming my toe into the doorjamb. “Frickenfudgesticks, ow!”
Devil puts a steadying hand on my arm and busts out laughing. “We gotta work on your swearing, girl. Or maybe not. It’s kinda cute. I won’t let anyone else in if you don’t want me to.” He flashes a sexy grin. “It’s easier to start with just one, anyway.”
“What do you mean? No! Wait. I’m not sure I want to know.” I hold up a hand and shake my head.
His motel room is pretty dismal. Mustard colored carpet, pea green floral comforter on the bed, a little desk and a single chair. A TV bolted to the wall with a remote hanging from a chain. Everything looks older than me, but I don’t really care. It seems clean enough, and it’s not home, which makes it perfect.
I go to sit in the chair, but Devil redirects me towards the bed. “Believe it or not, this isn’t a line to get you in my bed, but that chair is a fucking death trap. The seat is held on by a paperclip and a prayer. Trust me.”
The crazy thing is that I do. I don’t know why. He’s in the Screaming Eagles, which makes him both dangerous and almost definitely a criminal. He’s bigger than me, stronger than me, and has more ink than a fountain pen convention. The only reason I have to trust him is that he’s friends with Crash, but what do I even know about Crash anymore? I can’t keep viewing him through rose-colored glasses because we shared a few years together when we were kids. He’s a grown man, who, by all evidence, is big trouble.
But I still sit on the bed.
Devil leans back on the desk, his legs crossed in front of him looking long and sexy. “Okay, so lesson number one. Humans have four basic ways to deal with everyfuckingthing.” He smirks down at me. “Fleeing; which you just did. Great for bears, not so great for long term for complicated shit like you’re dealing with. Food; love it, need it, but unless your problem is starving, also not useful right now. Which brings us to one of my favorites; fighting.”
“Violence doesn’t solve anything,” I point out.
“That’s a line they sell to suckers to keep them docile. Wake up and look the fuck around. This world is built on violence.”
“That doesn’t make it right.”
Devil stands and takes a step towards me. “No shit. I didn’t say it wasn’t fucked up, but someone’s got to fight so we can carve out space so the people we love can be safe. All the good shit? Came because someone fought so we could have it. Rights, freedoms, safety, this shitty motel room, all of it.”
“Fine, but what does that have to do with me?”
His face grows a little softer, and he takes another step closer. “Honey, maybe you were supposed to grow up somewhere safe, where we wouldn’t be having this conversation, but here we are. As soon as you picked up that phone to call Crash, you started something. I get that you’re scared, but some part of you knows that we’re the ones that can fight to keep you safe and set you free. Trust that.”
“I can’t… I don’t…”
“Then how about we move on to the final F while you think about it.”
I narrow my eyes at him.
He leans in, putting a fist on either side of me on the bed. “The last one usually makes more problems than it solves, but—”
“Then what’s the point?”
“I’ll show you the point,” he whispers hotly in my ear, his stubble scratching against my cheek. “It makes the rest of them worth it. Oh, the things I could teach you, princess.”