Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 129408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Cade’s eyes ran over me, focusing on the bandage visible under my thin tank, resting there for a long time. They looked blank. Empty. Cold.
I knew different.
I knew he wasn’t moving or speaking not because of fury. Well, it was certainly part of it, but I knew he wasn’t because he couldn’t. Because he was replaying everything that could’ve happened, trying to remind himself that it didn’t. He was waiting to speak, to move, until he trusted himself to do it in the way the president of the Sons of Templar: California Chapter should do.
I winked at him.
It did what I’d intended, pissing him off enough to react. “Who the fuck have you pissed off now?” he demanded.
“We don’t know this is Rosie’s fault, so why don’t you lay off?” Luke said, face and voice hard.
Cade turned his glare to him. “You’re acquainted with Rosie, right?” he shot. “Of course this is her fuckin’ fault.”
Luke clenched his fist. “You better watch what you say about your sister being responsible for getting herself shot, almost fuckin’ dying. That bullet was three inches shy of her heart. Think she’s that eager to leave this fucking world?”
Luke’s words carried silence with them. Silence in the men in the room who were presented with yet another death.
They didn’t hold onto that for long. At least Cade didn’t.
“You need to tell me what the fuck you’re tangled up in. Right fucking now,” Cade demanded, crossing his arms over his chest, obviously deciding to ignore Luke’s presence altogether.
I wanted to cross mine right back, to make a statement. Kind of hard to do with the burning pain in my arm. “Why do you think it’s me who’s tangled up in something? It could’ve been an unlucky coincidence.”
Cade gave me a wide-eyed look. “There are no coincidences when it comes to you. Especially when there’s drive-by fuckin’ shootings involved.”
“He’s got you there,” Lucky muttered.
I silenced him with a glare.
The uneasy silence was broken with a loud banging on the door, which of course meant every male in the room whipped out a gun and just overreacted in general.
I rolled my eyes, pushing up from the sofa. “Chill, commandos. I ordered pizza.”
Lucky was first to lower his gun and make his way to the door. “Great, I’m fucking starving.”
Luke, who had all but arm-wrestled Cade to stand between me and the door, glared at me. “You ordered pizza?”
“Getting shot makes me work up an appetite.”
“I’ll give you two-point-five seconds to show me a pie or I’ll shoot you,” Lucky said from the door he’d just opened, obviously not to someone wearing a Domino’s uniform.
Of course, that meant all guns were raised once more.
“I’m looking for Rosie.”
I groaned.
The deep and irritated voice was familiar.
I stepped around Luke and Cade who both wore matching scowls when I managed to do so without either of them snagging me.
“It’s okay, Lucky. I know him. You can let him in.”
Lucky turned to raise his brow at me. “Okay, but I’m guessing he’s an unexpected visitor, which means he gets no pizza,” he whined.
He stepped back to let our newest arrival in, the men eyeing him warily, Luke with open hostility.
Well, everyone but Gage, who grinned at me. “I knew you coming back would mean I got to have some fun.”
“Who the fuck is this?” Luke demanded.
I ignored that too. “Lucian, what are you doing here?”
“The team’s dead,” he said in answer, voice blank and somehow breathless. Not from the distance up our stairs after the elevator crapped out. He was a fit guy. Had been before, and now with the veins in his biceps pulsing and exposed by his Army-green wife beater, it seemed that he was more so.
Breathless from running. Not upstairs but obviously all the way from Venezuela. From some very bad fucking men.
I was a little breathless myself. Death was there, standing at Lucian’s back.
Or maybe he was there all along.
“All of them?” I choked, remembering Arnie’s declaration about winning back his childhood sweetheart once he’d gotten his shit together. Richie talking about how his dad was his best friend and they were going to go fishing when he finally stopped killing assholes.
Lucian nodded once. “They made us.” His eyes went to my shoulder. “Fuck, they’ve found you.” He stepped forward, as if to brush his fingers over my collarbone. Luke made short work of that stupid gesture, pulling my uninjured shoulder gently into him, positioning me so I was slightly behind him.
“You wanna keep that arm, I suggest you keep it to your fuckin’ self,” he growled.
Lucian looked from me to Luke, understanding. There was no anger, no jealousy from a lover who’d been pining for me. It wasn’t like that with us, not really. We’d both used each other for different reasons.
“Not here to fight. I’m here to warn Rosie.” His eyes went to the men scowling at him—apart from Gage, obviously—each with hands resting on their weapons. Cade was still holding his. “Looks like you don’t need warning.” His eyes went to Luke. “Or protecting.”