Total pages in book: 192
Estimated words: 182641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 913(@200wpm)___ 731(@250wpm)___ 609(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 182641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 913(@200wpm)___ 731(@250wpm)___ 609(@300wpm)
But I’ve got shit to do and I’m on a time line so when Damiano steps forward, holding one hand behind him to further hold off the firing squad and one out in front of him as if to placate me, I keep on moving, but my eyes stay locked on his.
“Bass …” he eases. “You can’t just fucking barge in here like this. There’s a way to go about things.”
“Just came to get something of mine, pretty boy.”
That’s when I see it, the shine of familiar silver gleaming off the moonlight right there in the grass, and beside it … a body. My eyes narrow, my pulse thumping harder with each step closer.
It’s him. Dead.
Dead by my knife, the one thing that came with me from my past life into the new one.
The fucking irony …
I was so fucking close. My feet grow heavier, knowing if I turn back now, I might get back to the basement before Rayo “deals” with Otto for what he did, but then my eyes slide a little left.
To my girl, lying out on the wet grass in the middle of this mess with blood on her hands and nightgown. She hit the ground the moment she saw me, letting the defeat that threatened to consume her take over, trusting I’ll take it from here. Trusting in me.
Pride trickles up my spine, sinking its claws into it and leaving me burning, ’cause fuck me, I did something right. Somewhere along the way, I made a move that led us here. To the gift of this fucking girl giving up and giving herself over to me ’cause she knows I got her. Hasn’t heard from me in months, had my back turned to her among that, and still … she understands.
She is mine and I will always stand for her when she falls.
I close the gap between us, bend down, and scoop Rocklin into my arms.
The moment my hands touch her, everyone freaks the fuck out: threats and screams and shouts. Feet pound behind me, but I don’t look. I don’t listen. I don’t stop.
They do. The second that hidden weapon on the giant tank pops out of the sides, spinning in circles. Every single sound halts outside of the crunch of broken concrete beneath my feet.
I stepped through it all, climbing over the crumbled chaos, careful not to drop her. She doesn’t fight me, doesn’t try to move or rearrange herself. She’s silent and dead weight as I carry her through the rubble, past the gardens, into the house, and straight out through the front door.
I lower her inside the front seat of my new car, buckling her in before closing the door, and then I make my way to the driver’s seat.
I climb behind the wheel and then we’re off to beat a Brayshaw for touching my sister.
Rocklin
Gasping, my body lurches upward, panic seizing my lungs as my eyes desperately search for a sign of something in the darkness. My hands plant at my sides, and when my palms are met with thick plush cotton, I look down, realizing I’m tucked into a bed, one that isn’t mine.
Finally, my eyes adjust, snapping to the sliver of light creeping through the cracked open door. Once again, I trace every corner of the space, realizing I’m in a hotel I don’t remember arriving at.
For a moment, my concern doubles down, but then obsidian blue flashes in my mind, and while my muscles freeze one second, they grow lax in the next.
Bastian …
My eyes slice to the small opening of the door, and my heart beats a little faster.
He’s just outside it. I know it.
He came to me.
No … he came for me.
Wait. He busted through the walls of the Greyson Estate with a fucking tank.
Oh my god, Dad!
My hands fly around the bed, searching for my phone. I crawl around, tangling my legs up in the blanket and nearly stumbling when I climb off.
Wincing, I drop my eyes to my thigh. A white bandage stares back and I touch the scratchy cloth. That’s right. I was grazed by a bullet. I’m tempted to tear the gauze back and look at it, but there’re bold black letters written on the edge.
Don’t even think about it, they read, and a sad smile tugs at my lips.
Shit, Dad!
I whip around, but my things are nowhere in sight. There’s nothing but a black leather duffel I’ve never seen on the nightstand. I need to call the girls and Boston. I need to talk to Sai—
I jerk, freezing in place.
Sai.
I killed Sai. My guardian. My sworn protector.
I killed a traitor.
I did to him what he trained me to do to others, should it come to that. My hands begin to tremble, and hesitantly, I look at them.
A frown builds along my brow at the clean skin, the blood that covered them nowhere in sight, and then my eyes shift to the soft silk sleeve along my wrist. I’m in a pajama set that isn’t mine, but it’s a perfect fit. Soft and the same shade of pink as the Greyson uniform.