Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
“I see you’re choosing to continue playing hard to get.” He slurs his words, causing my anxiety to ramp up. “Don’t worry, baby. I enjoy the chase,” he says while maneuvering his body farther into the bathroom. The door falls closed behind him, leaving us completely alone. “Been waiting all night to get a taste of you.” His hand comes up toward my face.
I step back, hitting one of the stall walls, accidently caging myself in. I close my eyes and get ready to scream, praying that someone will hear me over the music. I ready myself to kick, punch, or do whatever else I have to, but his touch never comes. Instead, I hear the most indescribable noise I think I’ve ever heard. That’s saying a lot considering I listen to Tigger snore most nights.
My eyes fly open to see Jackson. He has blue shirt guy against the wall. His hand is wrapped around the man's throat, lifting him off the ground, I would say by almost a foot, like he’s nothing more than a rag doll.
“You think I haven’t been watching you all night, motherfucker?” Jackson’s tone is so deadly steady that it sends a chill up my spine. It also warms me in other places. My body has strangely opposite reactions at once.
The man chokes out something, trying to speak. You can’t make out a single word. Jackson only tightens his hold on the guy’s throat, causing his face to turn a deep red and making his eyes look as though they are about to pop out. I stand there unable to move.
“Paisley.” Cole saying my name breaks me out of the spell. I hadn’t noticed him coming into the bathroom. He is trying to pull Jackson off the man. “A little help before he kills the asshole.”
What does he think I’m going to do? He’s pulling on Jackson, and it’s not doing anything. Blue shirt is also trying to yank Jackson’s hand away from his throat until his whole body goes limp. Oh God, he is going to kill him.
“Jackson.” I place my hand on his forearm, wrapping my fingers around it. His eyes drop to my hand. “You’re scaring me.” Those words do the trick in getting his attention. He turns his head toward me. I let out a small gasp when I see how dark his eyes are.
June has told me how her brother can set aside his emotions and turn into somewhat of a machine. I hadn’t witnessed it until this moment. All I’ve gotten is the sweet side of him, but I can see exactly what June was talking about. Is it bad that this side of him sends a small pang of excitement coursing through me instead of fear? There is not one single part of me that is scared of Jackson. But I am afraid of what could happen if he did kill this guy.
Jackson releases his hold on him. He crumbles to the floor and starts coughing. “He fucking peed himself.” Cole lets out an irritated sigh. “Both of you get out of here. I’ll get this cleaned up.”
I start to speak, but Cole cuts me off. “This isn’t a debate.” His normal playful tone is gone, and I know not to fight him on this one. He steps back so I can leave the bathroom to grab my things. Jackson is right behind me.
He doesn’t say a word as we make our way out to his truck. Not even when he opens the door for me.
“I’m sorry about that,” I finally mutter to try and break the long silence.
It wasn’t like him or at least what I know of him. All day today, we bounced little stories about each other or things we’re into. He went on about how Cottonwood Creek is a good place to settle into and build a life.
Now he’s not saying anything. I hate it. Even when he led me out of the bar and into the truck, he hadn’t touched me. Whenever I’ve been close to him, it seemed like we both kept finding reasons to touch one another. Now it seems like there is an invisible wall between us.
“Nothing to be sorry for.” If that were true, then why the hell is he acting differently toward me?
I’m not sure how to respond to that, so I don’t. Instead I keep myself busy by fidgeting with my phone until we get back to his place.
“You should change, and I’ll make dinner,” he says, opening the front door.
“Not hungry,” I mumble before going to scoop Tigger up into my arms. Two can play at this silence thing.
“Too bad. You’re eating,” he orders, heading down the hallway, leaving me alone. I bury my face in Tigger’s fur, a mixture of anger and silence taking hold.
13
JACKSON
I run my hand down my face, pissed off at myself. My fucking emails aren’t helping with my temper either. The Woods are pressing hard for any information on their daughter. Threatening to hire someone else to find her.