Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 33553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
"He was threatening you? How?"
I hesitate, reluctant to answer.
"How, Zion?"
"He was threatening to press charges, claiming I threatened his life."
"He was going to have you arrested?" she growls. "And you were going to let him?"
"I've been in worse places than a jail cell, Makenzie."
She stares at me for a long moment as if she doesn't know what to say to that. It's the truth, though. I've been to hell and back, and for less reason than this. A night in a jail cell wouldn't even rate on the list of the worst places I've been. Was I looking forward to it? Of course not. But I wouldn't have regretted it either.
There's not a single fucking moment of protecting her that I'll regret. When someone comes for her, their targets are supposed to find my back. That's how this shit works. I stand in front of her so everything hits me instead of her. Not because I'm her bodyguard. Not because it's my job. But because my life only started making sense the minute she burst into it like a comet.
She owns me, heart, mind, body, and soul.
"I want to see the video."
"That's not a good idea," Madden says. "You don't want to see him spewing that bullshit."
"You're right. I don't want to see it, but I need to see it. It's the only way I'll be prepared for whatever is coming at me next," she argues, her voice soft. There's a thread of steel in it, though. This woman has more courage in her pinky finger than most men I know.
"We'll watch it together."
Madden curses but doesn't try to interfere. "I've already got my lawyers working on it," he says. "The video will be down soon. And he'll be slapped with a restraining order by the end of the day."
"Thanks, brother."
"Thanks, Madden," Makenzie whispers.
I disconnect, dropping the phone onto the bed to drag her into my arms.
"I want to see the video, Zion."
"We will, not we're not watching in our bed. Wrap around me, angel baby." I wait until she hooks her arms around my neck, and then scoop up the phone, depositing it on her belly. I stand in one fluid move, carrying her into the bathroom. It's not the most comfortable place to watch the video, but I can't think of a more fitting place to deal with a piece of shit like Lyle Taggert.
His fucking video makes my blood boil. He plays the earnest little schoolboy well, staring into the camera with his hands folded. He pretends as if he's blindsided and deeply hurt that she'd do this to him as he rattles on about how much he tried to help her.
It's all a fucking show. One that makes two things crystal clear. The first? This motherfucker wants the world to think he made her. The second? I've never wanted to kill anyone with my bare hands as badly as I want to kill this motherfucker.
When it's over, I drop the phone to the counter, pulling her into my arms. She hasn't said a word through the entire six-minute production. She's barely even moved. I know this has to be killing her, but she faces it with her head high, not speaking.
The fact that she isn't saying anything worries the hell out of me. Makenzie isn't a quiet woman. She's the kind who tells you exactly what she thinks about any given subject. She knows her own mind and isn't afraid to speak it. She isn't speaking it now.
"Talk to me," I whisper, chaffing her arms with my hands.
"And say what? That he's lying about all of it? He is. I never slept with him. I never touched him."
She doesn't have to tell me that. Her innocence still stains the bedsheets in tiny drops.
"He's a liar, Zion. It's what he does. It's who he is." She shrugs in my arms. "I can't change his nature, just like I can't force people to believe the truth. They'll believe what they want to believe, regardless of whether it's true or not. What can I possibly say to change that?"
"Fuck," I growl, burying her face in my throat as my heart threatens to break for her. She shouldn't have to know so much about how the world really works…and yet she does. It's as sad as it is infuriating. Fuck her mother and every other person who taught her those lessons. She shouldn't have had to learn them. It kills me that she did.
"What do you want to do, angel baby?" I ask after a moment, leaving the ball in her court. I've fucked up once already, trying to do it my way. This time, it's her decision to make. This is her life. The choice should be hers.
"What do I want to do? Shower," she sighs. "Olive and I have a photoshoot in a few hours."