Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 45210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Kanan reaches for me, and his hand engulfs mine. He brings our hands to his knee and then puts his other one over them, wrapping my one hand with both of his. “Your dad was right, you know. We do have an unbreakable bond, and I’ll always be here for you. I should have known your mom would pull something like this… I should have done something to stop her.”
“My dad…”
He turns toward me and searches my eyes. “Your dad loved you, Em. He would never have wanted you to suffer like this.”
I almost laugh. “This is not suffering. I know what suffering is, and trust me, this is just a blip. I can survive this.”
He leans toward me. “You know. We never talked about it, right?”
I jut my chin at him. “You mean how you saved me when I was fifteen years old? I know it all. It took me a while to figure it out, but I know. My dad was taking down the cartel. He had captured the ringleader and was part of the team that was extraditing him back to the US. The man’s brother is the one that kidnapped me.” I suck in a breath. “I also know that my dad and you and the guys all took them out. It’s like the Romero Cartel never existed.”
His thumb traces along the back of my hand. I can see the internal battle on his face. “I meant we never talked about that kiss.”
I try to pull my hands from his, but he doesn’t let me. Two years ago, at my father’s funeral, I kissed Kanan. Looking back, it probably wasn’t the best decision I’ve ever made, but I don’t regret it. “Please don’t throw that in my face, Kanan. Not now. I know you don’t want me. I know I practically threw myself at you at the funeral, and I’ve apologized for it. I didn’t come here to embarrass myself some more or to try and trap you or anything. I swear, I had nowhere else to go. I’ve been on my friend’s couch for two weeks and…”
He sits up taller. “This happened two weeks ago?”
I nod. “Yeah, trust me. I’ve tried everything. I’m down to my last five hundred dollars, and I knew I had to do something. I shouldn’t have come here.”
“Just don’t. You were absolutely right to come here. Have you tried calling your mom?”
I nod and roll my eyes at him. “Yeah, but her phone is disconnected. Trust me, she doesn’t care, Kanan. I just need a place to stay for a few days. Just long enough to make a plan.”
“How did you get here, Emerson?”
He’s not going to like it. I know he’s not. I pull my hand from his and get up, putting some distance between us. Not because I’m afraid how he’s going to react. I know Kanan would never hurt me, but I do need to put some distance between us. It’s either that or I’m going to do something stupid like kiss him again. “A bus.”
He closes his eyes, and his face hardens. When he pries his eyes open, he stares at me angrily. “You rode a bus from Texas to Tennessee?”
I shrug, and he jumps to his feet and comes toward me, jabbing a finger in his own chest. “You call me, Emerson. It’s not safe for you to ride a bus alone like that. You call me and I come get you.”
I can’t help it. He looks so serious, and all I can do is laugh. “Kanan, before my dad died, I saw you guys all the time. I would have called you and not thought twice about it. Since the funeral, I’ve seen and talked to Walker and Brook pretty regularly, but the rest of you, well, I know you have your own lives. I wasn’t just going to call you and expect you to drop everything to come rescue me.”
CHAPTER 3
KANAN
I want to argue with her and tell her that’s not true, but I’d be lying. I haven’t seen her in a while, and when I have seen her, I’ve made sure to not be alone with her. She’s way too tempting, and I have no willpower when it comes to her. Yeah, I’ve thought about her every day—fuck, I’ve thought about that kiss every day—and I’ve kept tabs on her, but she doesn’t know that. “Fuck,” I grunt, turning away from her. I can barely look at her, afraid she’ll see the guilt on my face. If she knew what really happened the day her dad died, she would never have come running to me, but I know I can’t turn her away. Not now.
“Where’s your stuff?”
She points to her backpack on the floor. “There and I have a suitcase out front.”
I grab my jacket and tie, sling her backpack over my shoulder, and head for the door, ignoring her protests to try and stop me. I know she doesn’t deserve this treatment, but until I can get my emotions under control, I don’t trust myself to talk to her. She’s practically jogging to keep up with my stride. I reach her suitcase and pick it up, but she moves in front of me. I almost knock into her, but I stop just in time, and her hands go to my chest.