Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 32998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 165(@200wpm)___ 132(@250wpm)___ 110(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 165(@200wpm)___ 132(@250wpm)___ 110(@300wpm)
Dalton's jaw clenches, his glare sharp enough to cut. "Mind your own damn business, old man," he retorts, each word a bullet fired in frustration.
"Kid, you are my business," Gramps fires back, his eyes hard as steel. "When the fuck are you going to learn that? Everything I do, I do for you!"
The resulting silence is thick enough to cut as the two face off, both willful and defiant to their very cores. But it doesn't last long before Dalton breaks with a muttered curse, storming toward the door.
"Where are you going?" I cry after him.
"Home to my wife," he growls over his shoulder.
My mouth falls open, shock rippling through me. He really did it. He bowed to Gramps' wishes. I don't even know where to begin fitting those pieces into place, and I don't have time to try before Gramps reaches for my hand, patting it.
"Ignore him," he says with a tired sigh. "He'll figure it out eventually."
"Figure what out?"
"That some things in this world are worth fighting for," he says. "Even if they scare the hell out of you."
I lick my lips, meeting his gaze as memories of last night burble to the surface—of the fierce way Carver claimed me as if trying to embed himself in my soul. Of the way I begged for it, demanding more. "W-what if they don't scare you at all?"
"What do you mean?" he asks.
"What if…what if the thing I want most in this world doesn't scare me at all?" I repeat, my voice a scrap of sound as I glance down. I'm sure of Carver in a way I've never been sure of anything. Should that scare me? After last night, am I supposed to be afraid of what we are together? "What if it's the only thing that doesn't scare me?"
"Then you're far braver than you give yourself credit for, little bird." He squeezes my hand, his grip weak. "Love is terrifying, but you always have been the bravest little thing I've ever known. If it makes you happy, hold onto it with both hands and don't let go."
A sudden surge of emotion courses through me as I remember all the times Carver said something similar to me. Good girl. You're so brave for Daddy. His voice is like a phantom whisper in my ear, calling me home. And like his good little girl, I'm helpless to do anything but obey.
My grandfather is right. Maybe I should be afraid. Maybe love should be terrifying. But I'm not and it isn't because it's right. Everything about Carver is right. If there's darkness in what we are together, so be it.
I jolt up off the bed, my heart pounding. "I have to go. There's something I need to do," I murmur, reaching down to hug my grandfather. "But I'll be back tomorrow. I promise."
He grabs my hand before I can pull away. "I never wanted power or control for you, Lena. I always wanted love," he murmurs, his voice gruff with emotion. "It's what you need. It's who you are. If you've found it, good for you."
"Gramp," I whisper, tears clogging my throat.
"Fly home to it, little bird, and hold it close."
Chapter Eight
Carver
"Goddamn potholes," I growl, gripping the steering wheel as the truck bounces through the deepest of them on the way back to the cabin. It's barely even eight in the morning, but I've already put in hours of work this morning, securing the property with barbed wire and No Trespassing signs.
It won't keep everyone out, but it'll damn sure make it harder for anyone to get close to Lena until I can get fences and a security system up. The potholes are the least of my priorities right now. Ensuring that no one else ever gets close to her again is the only thing that matters now.
It's all I could think about last night—her scream. The thought of losing her. She slept soundly in my arms, clinging to me as if she wasn't ever going to let me go, and I couldn't fucking breathe, afraid if I closed my eyes, she'd slip away.
As soon as the sun came up, I went to work, trying to ensure nothing like that ever happens again. I went back out to the clearing first thing. The motherfucker who attacked her was long gone—hauled off by the Sheriff last night. They're lucky I called them instead of making my way back out there to kill him myself. I thought about it. More than once.
Instead, I let them take him in. They wanted to talk to Lena, but that's not happening. They have my statement and his confession. It's all they need. She isn't reliving a goddamn thing for them to do their jobs.
She'll never think of him again, as far as I'm concerned.
I strung barbed wire all along the back of the clearing, cutting off access from the public trails. Hikers are no longer welcome on my fucking property. So long as she's here with me, they enter at their own peril.