Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 105506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 422(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 422(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
“Will you take care of her?” Violet whispered.
“Of course,” I promised. “Not gonna let her outta my sight.”
“Okay,” she sighed. “Bring her home when you can.”
“I intend to.”
I ended the call then continued staring down at Sariah, trying to figure out how I was going to protect her from something that had already destroyed her.
SARIAH
Colby took me out for breakfast after the best sleep I’d had in years.
I’d been to a bunch of places all over the country throughout the past almost two years. Objectively beautiful places with quaint main streets and impressive restaurants. Before all of this, I would’ve gone to every one of them, anxious to try every kind of delight available to me, desperate to taste every inch life had to offer.
But the only thing I gave importance to was coffee.
I ate only when I had to, and when I did eat, I deliberately went to run-down chain restaurants. It didn’t much matter what I ate, it all tasted the same anyway. Plus, eating food made with preservatives and chemicals, without love or zeal for life, that was somehow easier to swallow.
But Colby had chosen the place, and I’d gone along with it. He had made me agreeable with multiple orgasms this morning.
The café was cute, to say the least. It was decorated in light colors, a lot of the spring sunshine streaming through the many windows. It smelled of high-quality coffee and baked goods, the plates of food coming out of the kitchen impressive.
My mouth watered, surprised by how hungry I was.
I was suddenly aware of all of the light in the place. It was doing great things for Colby. His hair was messy in a way that made it look like he’d spent time on it. I knew he hadn’t; I’d watched him shower then slip on a wrinkled tee, black jeans, his cut and boots.
It dried during the ride from here to the café.
His sunglasses were hooked on the front of his tee. His lips were pink, full, maybe from all the work he’d done with them this morning.
He looked like a fucking model.
And I was wearing torn jeans, a black bodysuit and one of Colby’s zip up hoodies that I’d stolen from his duffel.
I’d put my hair into a quick braid, knowing we’d be on the bike. I swiped on my usual makeup, smudged liner and a lip gloss I didn’t know the age of.
Suddenly, I was self-conscious of how I looked in this harsh light, amongst all the soft colors and pretty pastries. Especially compared to Colby. He was a biker Adonis, and I looked like the cheap escort he’d paid for the night before.
Colby seemed unaware of the way my posture had tightened as he tagged the back of my neck so he could kiss me quickly on the lips. “First thing, I need some strong coffee and food I like.” His eyes slunk up and down my body, somehow in appreciation. “Then I need to witness you eat a meal. Maybe even two. Love your body, however it is, but I also want to see you nourished.”
Nourished.
Such a simple word.
As if a meal and a coffee would heal everything that was wrong with me.
Arguing with him was futile. Communicating my fucked-up and complex emotions was impossible.
“They better have pancakes,” I grumbled.
Colby’s lips tipped up in victory.
The café did have pancakes. Delicious pancakes with fresh berries and fancy sauces since they were too hip for regular maple syrup.
But I ate the entire plate and enjoyed them. Colby watched me while digging into his French toast. We didn’t speak much, but it felt comfortable.
It felt … surreal.
Not twenty-four hours ago, I’d been hungover—since blackout drunk was the only way a girl could get at least a few hours of sleep without nightmares. I’d been looking at a black hole of a day, dreading how I’d have to fill in time before I could plant myself in another dive bar. I’d been drenched in guilt at the numerous calls and texts from Violet, Kate and everyone back in Garnett.
Self-hatred had coated me like oil, despite how red my skin would be after a scalding hot shower, scrubbing at it.
Yet here I was in a funky café with Colby like it was normal. Like we were normal.
Suddenly, the sweet and tart taste of pancakes disappeared.
“How have you even had time to do this?” I asked, pushing my plate aside. “Isn’t being a Son kind of like a full-time job? I know Hansen is cool and everything, but I don’t see how he’d be okay with you going MIA.”
I didn’t think that Colby had been trailing me the entire time, but I got the impression that he’d been on the road for a long time.
“Getting to you has been my full-time job,” Colby answered. “Hansen knows it. Understands it. Whole club gets it. This is where I need to be.”