Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 62197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
There were probably some rooms in hotels nearby that were more affordable and easier to get, but they weren’t in this hotel, and I hadn’t wanted to take her out into the insanity to fight through the crowds to get to another one. And they didn’t have the ball-drop view that this one had. I wanted her to have that. I wanted to be with her when it fell, ringing in the new year.
Two hundred grand in cash and thirty grand worth of Carver’s Bootleg Whiskey had been the cost. I hadn’t even flinched.
When we reached the door, I used the key card, then pushed it open for her to go inside. Stepping in behind her, I saw the white twinkling lights from the Christmas tree I’d ordered to be set up in here. She hadn’t put one up in her apartment this year, and from all our text over the years, I knew that putting up a tree was normally a big deal for her. She’d make cookies and play Christmas movies, and often, Jellie would take the train over from Boston to join her.
There hadn’t been one cheerful, over-the-top decoration that she’d talked about in the past anywhere in sight. That was my fault too. I’d taken her holiday joy from her, and fuck if I wasn’t going to make up for it the best I could.
“Th-there’s a tree,” she said with a touch of awe in her voice.
“And the chocolate-covered strawberries and cupcakes are both gluten-free,” I said, walking up behind her as she stood, taking in the scene.
Nancy, the head at the concierge desk, hadn’t let me down. But then I’d handed her three grand, rolled up and secured with a rubber band, to get this done quickly.
She shook her head, and her shoulders drooped when she wrapped her arms around herself in a dejected way. “I don’t understand you, Ransom.” Her words were barely above a whisper.
Yeah, she did. What she didn’t understand were the reasons behind my actions. That was the fucking family controlling me.
“I handled some things wrong. I was rash, and because of that, I’ve had orders placed on me,” I told her.
I wasn’t supposed to tell her anything, but I no longer gave a shit. They were making me hurt her over and over, and I couldn’t do that anymore. I wanted my girl smiling, happy. I wanted her to light up at the sight of me, the way my chest soared when I saw her. I didn’t like the tears. I fucking hated the tears. They were worse than any torture the family might choose to punish me with.
She turned, and her head tilted back as she stared up at me. “What orders?” she asked, concern taking the place of pain.
Closing the space between us, I slid a hand over her hip and rested it there. Needing to touch her to ease some of the savagery that had taken over me since I’d gotten the call from Wayne.
“Family orders, Shakespeare. Ones handed down from the boss. The man who holds the power to decide if I live or die. That is the only reason I obeyed. But now,” I said with a shake of my head, “I don’t care about that. Not if this is hurting you so much that you went out with another man. Fuck, Shakespeare, I can’t even look at other women and feel anything. I don’t want them. I don’t acknowledge them. Just you. It’s just you.”
The softening of her expression didn’t ease the look in her eyes. Instead, they appeared more alarmed than anything else. “Live or die?” she asked.
I nodded and reached up to brush the pad of my thumb over her bottom lip. “It’s the life. You obey the boss.”
“No, wait.” She stepped away from my touch, shaking her head. “Are you telling me that your being here is going to get you … get you killed?” The franticness in her tone was cute.
“I hope not,” I replied. “Doesn’t matter. I’m here, and it’s the only place I want to be.”
She held up a hand, her eyes wide as she shook her head. “Noooo, it does matter. You can’t just … you can’t d-die. I can’t—I don’t—” She let out a breath and blinked as another tear rolled down her face. “I can’t live in a world you’re not in, Ransom. If that means you can’t be with me or even contact me, then go. Please, if you feel anything for me, you will go,” she said, pointing to the door.
I probably should have softened that truth up for her. She wasn’t ready to hear all that my life entailed yet. It would take time to slowly ease her into it. If I had that time. I fucking hope I did. I wanted a lifetime with this woman.