Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 87961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
His face grows redder with each passing second. “She’s innocent, and you knew that, deep down inside.” He works the thin black thread in and out, quickly sewing up the wound. His brow is furrowed in concentration, his disgust with the situation all over his face. “I’ve spent the last week locked in a room with her, remember? I think I would have had an idea!” he shouts, his voice slightly shaking.
I adjust her on top of me, tightening my hold around her to provide as much warmth as possible. “You can’t ever be too sure. You should know that.”
“Well, looks like you got what you wanted.”
“I didn’t want this, Caleb. She’s linked to fucking Joe. Joe! There was a chance she was in on it. I had to find out.”
He pulls on the thread and cuts it. Then he lifts the covers and stitches her stomach. Once he’s finished, he pushes himself away from the bed. Leaning down to me, he narrows his eyes. “There was a chance. A very small chance. Hell, you’re a fucking genius with numbers, how small was that chance, huh?” He straightens up and wipes his bloody hands down his shirt. “You think everyone is a threat, why not just go on a mass killing spree? She’s just a girl.” He points at her. “A girl who was taken against her will. And I told you that. But guess what, now she’s a girl you almost killed because you're paranoid. She’s gonna be fucked in the head for the rest of her life because you had to be sure!”
“You need to shut your mouth right now,” I slowly say, my tone calm and collected and deep.
He turns to make his way across the room, but stops at the foot of the bed. “I know we have fucked-up lives, but everybody needs a limit. This should have been yours!” He can’t even look at me now. His eyes are locked on her. “You’re fucking soulless.”
He’s right. I close my eyes and exhale. “You may be my brother, Caleb, but tread fucking carefully. It’s me that keeps this business and this family alive. Everyone outside of this house is a threat.”
“Right now”—he points to her—“I trust her more than I trust you. You better hold her until she comes to. I’ve done all I can fucking do.” He opens the door and slams it closed.
I stare at the wall, holding her so damn close to my body that the cold is bleeding into me. “Bring me some clothes to put on her, do you hear me?” I yell, my voice straining from the volume. I want to scream until my throat fucking bleeds.
I roll her onto her side and slide up behind her. I rest my chin on her shoulder and breathe over her neck to try and warm it. She’s not near as cold, and her breathing is growing less shallow and erratic. I pull her closer, my palm slipping over the mutilated flesh on her stomach, the thread coarse against my palm. I have to swallow down the acid rising in my throat. Her blood is all over my hand. Shit.
I grew up in the middle of violence. This life has been all I’ve known. I can’t count the number of times as a child that I watched my father rough someone up. Violence surrounded me, and the only pure things in my life were my mother and sister. In my family, women were respected, worshipped almost. They were like a forgiving light that shined through the hell that surrounded us, and then that light was smothered by Joe.
This life will damage and ruin anyone I become involved with. It’s an evil that seeps its way into things, and this right here just proves that to me. I watched her try to kill herself. Out of all the people I’ve seen die, I have never seen someone beg for death. They beg for life, they plead, they bargain—but she saw death as a better option. What the fuck have I done to her?
She moves her arm, and a muffled whimper escapes her lips. I know she’s in pain. I’ve never felt remorse like this for hurting someone, and I’m finding the guilt slamming its way over me right now to be fucking unbearable. This right here has fucked me in a way I’ve never been fucked. She was good and pure. She was everything I’m not. I took that innocence from her. This girl makes me have a fucking soul, and I can’t have that.
It’s late. And here I sit, slumped against the wall, staring at her asleep in my bed. I feel a need to protect my family, my business, but, for whatever reason, I also feel the need to protect her.
Bob defied me; he went against my orders and he hurt her. What he did to her will be permanently marred across her body, and fuck knows what it’s done to her mind. He’s made me no better than Joe. Every time her hands brush over that scar, she’ll see Bob’s face, and she’ll hate me for leaving her, for allowing it to happen.