Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 83961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
"Call it in," he told me, not having to say anything else. I snagged it on the fly and quickly dialed in the number for Hailstorm.
"Malcolm," he answered, his familiar, fatherly voice making my insides feel like they were being ripped out. It was supposed to be a clean break. I was never supposed to hear their voices again. And, next to Lo, Malcolm was the closest thing to family I had. He raised me up. He showed me that men could be good and trustworthy. He never once implied that my damage or my femaleness or my size was ever a factor. He trained me like he trained the men even though I knew he held a soft spot in his heart for me, like the daughter he never had. Hearing his voice physically hurt.
But it was for Lo.
I would torture myself every day left of my miserable life for Lo.
"Malc it's Janie..."
"Jstorm, what the fuck?" he exhaled loudly, sounding both frustrated and relieved. "Where the fuck have you been? Lo is..."
"In the basement of the carpet store. Cash is on his way. He's going to need back up. Bring someone medical. If Damian has her, there's going to be damage."
"On it," Malcolm said and I could hear him issuing out orders. There was a pause. "Honey is everything okay with you?" he asked, somehow picking up on things being amiss. What can I say? He was good at his job.
"Everything is fine. Go get Lo. Get her safe. Get her fixed up."
"Never doubt it," he said, but he wasn't done. "JJ," he said, his voice dipping soft, "when am I going to see you back here?"
The ripping of my insides things intensified. "Bye Malc," I said into the phone, ending the call before things got out of hand and I started crying.
I put my elbows on the table, burying my face in my hands. It was that moment that Wolf decided to come back in. "Janie..." he said softly, all the distance gone from his voice. I couldn't bring myself to look up at him, too focused on trying to rein in my emotions before they went out of control. "He'll get her," he told me and I heard him come up by my side. "She's strong," he reminded me.
"Even strong women can be weak sometimes," I told him, feeling the truth of it in my bones.
I felt his huge palm close over both of my wrists, pushing them down and away from my face. His other hand reached up and snagged my chin, pulling it in his direction. I looked to find him crouched down beside my chair, watching me with open eyes. "He'll take care of her."
"I know he's like your brother and you have to protect him. But Cash isn't exactly..."
"She's his," he cut me off firmly. "He loves her." Those words hit home, cutting through the fear and helplessness I felt. "He'll help."
"Help what?"
"Her be strong again."
"You're sure?"
He gave me a tight nod and I found myself believing him even though I had no good reason to. On a strange muted whimper, I flew off the chair and launched myself into his chest, arms going around him tight. Him, being some descendant of the Titans themselves, didn't so much as budge at the impact. He made a grunting noise, his arms moving around me automatically as I buried my face in his neck, his beard tickling across my cheek.
Feeling braver with the contact, I whispered into his neck. "You locked me out this morning."
His chest tensed against me. "You pushed."
I felt a small laugh escape me, shaking my head. "Yeah I do that sometimes. In case you haven't noticed, I'm a pain in the ass."
"Noticed," he said with what sounded like humor in his voice.
"You're not supposed to agree with me," I laughed, slapping his back, not bothering to wonder why I hadn't let go of him yet.
"Ain't gonna lie," he defended.
"No, but you could keep that trap shut," I smiled, pulling backward to look at his face. "You know how to do that."
"Where's the fun in that?"
"Oh so it's fun to insult me?" I said, lowering my eyes at him in mock anger.
"Cute when you're pissed," he said, effectively wiping the smile off my face. Cute? He thought I was cute? I wasn't cute. I was a badass, gun-wielding, bomb-setting, Krav Maga-doing bitch from Hailstorm.
"Bunnies are cute," I shot back.
"Yep," he agreed. "So are you."
"I'm a badass," I objected.
"Yep," he agreed, nodding, lips twitching.
"I can incapacitate a full grown man with two fingers."
"Sure."
My eyes lowered for real this time. "I can!" I insisted. "Two fingers, right on the carotid. Eight seconds. Out." He nodded, acknowledging the truth of that statement. But there was a light in his eyes that I didn't trust. "What?" I snapped.
"Got a carotid," he said on a shrug.
"Um... yeah you do. Everyone does."
"You got two fingers. You got ten..." he informed me and I felt myself stiffening as I realized where he was going.
"Don't," I heard myself almost beg.
"Still conscious," he said, giving me a brow lift. "Wonder why."
"Oh gee... I dunno," I said, attempting sarcasm to cover the fact that he was right. He was so right. I hadn't even tried. What the hell? "Maybe because you are seventy-thousand pounds of muscle and if you felt my fingers even try to press into your neck, you could snap me like a twig?"
The humor drained from his face, his brows drawing together seriously. "Never," he said almost savagely.
"Never what?" I asked, too fascinated by how quickly his moods could switch from one to another to understand what he was talking about.
But then his arms released me and his hands went to frame my face. "I'd never hurt you."
Oh, duh.
I knew that. Like... I really knew that. He wasn't that type of guy. He was Michael, the archangel. He was a protector. And now I made him think he was some piece of shit that could put his hands on me. Great.