Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 56651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
“You fucking told Cain but not me.”
“Yes, Drake. I fucking did. Because I knew you would freak.”
“What was it?”
“You aren’t going to like it.”
“Well, that’s fucking obvious.”
“Dana didn’t see it.”
“Show me.”
“Here. I took pictures. There were notes. About a dozen of them slipped under the door.”
Whiskey pulled out his phone and found a picture. He held up his phone and we all leaned in to stare.
“Motherfucker!” Drake yelled, grabbing at Whiskey’s phone.
“Jesus,” Nick said. I looked around and all the guys looked grim. A fucking chill went down my spine.
“Keep it together, Drake,” Dev said. “We’ll get this guy.”
“Cain find anything?”
“No. They dusted and everything. Too smart to get caught, I guess,” Whiskey took his phone back and pointed at the image. “But clearly he is getting desperate.”
“So he will make a mistake,” Dev said grimly.
I closed my eyes. I could not shake the picture of all those notes. Dozens of them. They all said the same thing in a childlike scrawl. Over and over.
COME BACK
“It won’t be hard for him to find out where she works. If he hasn’t already.”
“He might be stalking her there, too. No way to know,” Dev said.
Nobody spoke for a moment. Each of us was thinking about our own women being in that situation. Each of us felt that helpless rage for Drake. Each of us wanted to help him protect Dana.
But I knew he needed to take the asshole out himself. Just like I had when the time came with Sally’s ex. With her help, of course.
Hell, I’d been the one providing an assist on that one. My woman had handled her shit, and then some. It was remarkable that she had stood up for herself after so many years as that fucker’s punching bag, doormat, and meal ticket. She’d run away, rebuilt her life, and learned to fight back. I had fallen in love with her spirit during that phase of her life. She had slowly blossomed in front of my eyes. And when it came time to throw down, she had been so brave.
I could not have been prouder.
“Okay. I’ll talk to her,” Drake finally said. “Thanks. For everything,” he added before walking away to check on how much more concrete we could get today with Jersey Mike.
Tank let out a low whistle.
“Who was that?”
“The new Drake.”
“I’m pretty sure that was actual humility,” Nick added, shaking his head in wonder.
“It was,” Jack said.
“Anyone see that coming?”
We all shook our heads.
“Hell, no,” I said, glancing at my watch. “But it’s a change for the better.”
“Amen,” Cal said, sounding almost reverent.
“I’m going to take off. The bakery in town makes those cookies Sally loves on Tuesdays.”
The guys all made whipping sounds as I jogged down the newly laid gravel driveway to my ride. They could joke all they wanted. I was going to have a very productive, not to mention supremely enjoyable, afternoon.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Sally
“Donnie? Why are you home so early?” I asked, wrapping my bathrobe around me. I had just showered after doing my weekly exfoliation, and deep conditioning ritual. I had been about to settle in with my favorite daytime talkshow and a cup of tea to give myself a pedicure.
“You look so beautiful,” he breathed, coming closer and scooping me into his arms. I giggled, not sure what was happening. It wasn’t like my husband never saw me without my hair and makeup done, but to be honest, it was kind of rare.
“I do?” I asked, then I stopped and sniffed the air, completely distracted. “Do you smell something delicious?”
“Yes,” he said, eyeing me. My hair was wrapped in a turban that was supposed to help it dry faster. My robe was a soft pink terrycloth, not one of the sexy silky ones I wore when I was getting ready for bed, or trying to get his attention for some adult time.
Not that I had to try very hard, I thought with an inner laugh. My husband was always hot for me. He was still chasing me around the kitchen, or anywhere else, after all the years.
“Other than me,” I squealed as he leaned down to bite my neck. Gently, of course. But I was very intrigued by the delicious smell… “Donnie!”
“I brought you a treat.”
“A treat?”
“You don’t recognize the smell?”
I bit my lip, staring up at him as realization dawned.
“Donnie, you didn’t. The Sara Bernhardt’s?”
“Yes, wife. I did.”
“Ohhhhh you brought me my favorite! But they are so expensive and soooo fattening,” I said, clapping my hands as he revealed the box he had set on the entry way table. He opened it as I protested, all the while reaching into the box and inserting one, delicious, absurdly rich and beautiful cookie into my mouth. “Oh my God,” I moaned in ecstasy.
“Hmmm. I love making you moan,” my husband said with an eyebrow wiggle. “Maybe I can make you moan in another way,” he added, his fingers reaching down beneath the robe to slide up my thigh.