Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 86398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
They were sitting in the top reclining love seat next to the large wooden bar Sergio had flown in from Europe.
Something was on the screen, but I refused to focus on it.
No, my focus was solely on Tank’s hand as it inched closer to hers.
And the arm that was seconds away from no longer being attached as he scooted his massive body even closer, his forehead nearly touching hers as she smiled up at him.
Hell no.
“Hey!” I barked out and then, like a complete monster, moved through the air at record speed and jumped between them where there really wasn’t a seat but enough space that I almost ended up in Tank’s lap.
He wasn’t amused.
Annie gave me a funny look. “You, um… doing better?”
“Perfect. Wonderful. Actual unicorns stampeded out of my ass on the way here as I drove under a double rainbow and waved at a leprechaun.”
Behind me, Tank sighed heavily.
“So what are we watching? Where’s the popcorn?” I shoved Tank’s arm back and then moved my arms to surround both seats.
“I’ll go.” Annie hopped to her feet, clearly eager to get away from me. Not that I blamed her. I had just pummeled a guy near to death and needed three guys to get me off him.
All because he’d touched her then had the audacity to be clueless about it.
“Second drawer in the pantry,” Tank called after her.
“I remember!” She grinned over her shoulder, damn near skipping out the door.
The minute she was gone, I shoved away from Tank and stood. “She remembers?”
After a heavy sigh, he took a breath and stood. “Look, I get that you’re angry at the world, but we’re friends, you know, people who enjoy each other’s company, hang out, endure small talk about the weather during awkward moments only to stay up until midnight sharing secrets just because we can…” His eyes got all wistful making me want to choke him.
“I’m seriously tempted to punch you in the face right now,” I deadpanned. “But I think the fact that you’re sharing secrets until midnight with people is punishment enough.” I twisted my face into a grimace. “The hell, man? Are you painting each other’s fingernails too?”
“Jealous?” He crossed his arms, and I could have sworn his chest puffed out like he was actually proud.
Yes. “No, not even a little bit.”
Whatever, I could share secrets.
Maybe.
But then I’d have to kill her, right?
“Sure. Okay.” He wasn’t buying it. Hell, I wasn’t even buying it.
Tank glanced behind him then faced me again, all brawn, with his dark hair and chiseled jaw clenched like he was thinking of biting something off, preferably a fight with me, which sounded better by the second. “Look, honest moment, I know you’re suffering still. Hell, it’s like you want the world to pay attention to your pain, but I’m sick and tired of this manipulative shit!”
“Excuse me?” I asked. “Are you seriously calling me out right now?”
“Yes.” He threw his hands up. “It’s like you want to be both sinner and saint, protector, and persecutor. Pick one already and stop messing with her head. Don’t be nice to her only to rip her a new one every time she smiles, and it makes you fucking sad. It’s not fair to her, and it sure as hell isn’t fair to every single family member and friend who’ve stood by your miserable side while you self-destruct.”
Anger flared to life at the truth of his words. “You son of a bitch!”
I wasn’t used to being called out.
To being talked down to.
To not being revered in every way that mattered.
I was king, after all. Or had I already fallen off that throne by my own hand? By hers?
“I’m serious, Ash. I like her, actually like her! I don’t just want to be her friend, I want—”
“Yeah, I know exactly what you want. The answer is no. You don’t get to have her, ever!”
“You aren’t her dad!” he shouted.
“She’s under my protection!” I jabbed my thumb into my chest. “Mine.”
“Oh? And how’s that going for her so far? What with a bomb getting sent to your house, her getting sent away to Italy for a year, or how about the constant bullying on social media. You can’t do shit unless you’re using your fists or your words, and I’m tired, we’re all fucking tired, Ash!”
His words hit home.
Too close.
Too close until midnight.
Too close until the dirt.
Too close.
My vision tunneled as I screamed, “Fine! You want Sunday school pussy wrapped around your cock, be my guest!”
The sound of something crashing against the floor semi-jolted me out of my angry stupor, the haze lifting slowly, painfully.
And there she was. Just standing there. Eyes wide, popcorn all over the floor, hands shaking. Staring.
It was empty, that stare.
Like I’d taken the last pieces of her that were good and swallowed them up into my bad, taken them away because how dare she be happy when she was still here?