Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 170747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 854(@200wpm)___ 683(@250wpm)___ 569(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 170747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 854(@200wpm)___ 683(@250wpm)___ 569(@300wpm)
“I won’t what?”
“You won’t wait forever.” Tears prickle my eyes and fall down my cheeks, disguised by the water of the shower.
He closes the space between us, pressing me against the wall once more. His fingertips gently trace over my cheek. “You underestimate how much I want you. Not your body—you. One day you will come to me, and you will ask me to give you something that no one else can.”
“What—”
“Do you trust me?”
I hesitate for a second. “Yes.”
“Then trust me to know what you need.”
What about what he needs? I suck in a deep breath and silence permeates the space between us.
“I think… I think you should fuck someone else.” I can barely force the words past my lips, and as I picture him with another girl, kissing another girl, my heart splinters just a little more.
Rafael goes very still, and when I look up at him, he looks pissed. He takes a slow step back, and then another, cutting the water to the shower. Wordlessly, he turns his back and steps out, picking up a towel. He wraps it around his waist and walks straight out of the room without a backward glance.
My legs give out, and I slide down the wall to the shower floor, pulling my knees to my chest. What did I just do? Did I upset him? Or did I just set him free the same way he set me free? Rafael is not a man to be caged or limited. This is the right thing to do. I know it. So why do I feel like I just tore off a part of my soul and cast it to the flames?
When I finally drag myself off the shower floor, I decide that I need to be pro-active. It feels like everything is crumbling around me, but I refuse to crumble myself. I want to be strong. Strong enough to be what Rafael needs, or strong enough to watch him walk away. I’m not sure either is possible.
Lucas is waiting right outside the bedroom door, his hands folded behind his back like a soldier on alert. “You’re going to teach me how to fight.”
“What?”
“You are going—”
“I heard you, but shouldn’t the boss be doing that?”
“He’s busy.”
He groans. “He said no didn’t he?”
“No. Like I said, he’s busy. Come on.”
“Please don’t let him kill me,” he whines. Pussy.
An hour later, and I’m in the gym, facing Lucas, my fists raised in front of my face.
“No, like this.” Lucas grabs my arms and twists my body. “Feet wider.” I move, and he nods. He stands across from me, his legs spread and his fists raised. “Now, I’m gonna hit you. Block me.” He moves to hit me. Slowly. All I have to do is lift my forearm, but instead, I step back. “Anna,” he groans.
I huff out a breath and drop my hands. “Look, I’m not a fighter, okay?”
“You don’t have to be, just defend yourself.”
“You can’t blame me for not wanting to get hit.”
“Exactly, you don’t want to get hit, so block it.”
I jump when I hear a throat clear behind me. Turning around, I find not only Carlos but also Samuel standing, watching us. Oh, great. “Don’t you have work to do or something?” I snap.
Carlos’ cool mask cracks and he grins. “Ah, Anna. We’re just getting a little entertainment.”
“Glad I amuse you.”
“It’s more the idea of my brother teaching you how to fight.” Carlos strolls further into the gym and shrugs out of his hoody. He’s wearing tracksuit bottoms and a vest, the ink work on his arms is even denser than Rafael’s. Layers upon layers of intricate designs that have stained his skin in a multitude of colors.
He walks over to me and uses his foot to kick mine wider. “What are you doing?”
“Teaching you something.”
I narrow my eyes. “Why?” Why would Carlos of all people help me?
“Carlos,” Samuel interjects. They stare at each other for a beat before Carlos rolls his eyes.
“I won’t hurt her.”
Samuel shrugs. “It’s your spinal cord he’ll rip out of your asshole….”
I wrinkle my nose. “Gross.”
“Okay, you don’t need to fight. You just need a head start.” Carlos ducks down, locking eyes with me. “If someone comes at you, you run, or you shoot. You do not attempt to throw a punch, okay?” I scowl at him but nod my head in agreement. “Three points: eyes, throat, crotch. Repeat.” He lifts his dark brows beneath the peak of his ball cap.
“Eyes, throat, crotch.”
He nods. “Now you want to aim here.” He points to the soft spot at the base of his throat. “Two fingers and jab.” He waves me forward. “Come on.” I hesitate for a second before trying to jab him in the throat. He easily knocks my hand aside. “Faster. The only chance you will have is surprise. You have to be quick.”