Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22496 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22496 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
“Let me leave you to it,” he says, no doubt from me drifting through thoughts instead of trying to speak. He takes a single step forward, and that simple motion is all it takes for my heart to slam against my ribcage. “You could probably do with some rest.”
I’m not ready to be alone, and if he keeps making me feel this special, I might never be again.
“Wait.” It’s not panicked, but it’s not comfortable, either. His brow dances at my sudden shift. “Can I ask you something before you go?”
“Anything. I’ll stay as long as you need me.” Unlike before, he doesn’t stop himself from reaching out this time. His firm, calloused hand brushes my shoulder, and warmth radiates from the place he touches, coursing through my body until it settles somewhere in the deepest parts of my tummy. Tickling that naughty place and nearly making me gasp.
I fight the urge. Hold my breath to stop any sound from escaping. This shouldn’t be my first reaction to his touch. It’s meant to be comforting, yet I find myself wanting it to trickle further. His hand sliding down my body, touching places that have never felt a man’s embrace before. Our bodies pressed together. Mouths hovering closer, dangerously, nearing that point of no return.
Holy shit, calm down, Carrie . . .
I try to bring myself back down to earth. Stop the ludicrous thoughts. I barely know the man. Hell, we haven’t even exchanged names. How can I be so infatuated with someone who’s no different than a stranger?
But the answer is right in front of me. His restraint is a blessing in disguise. Unlike so many others, he’s not flinging himself at me and trying to take advantage of this innocent girl. Truth be known, this virgin girl. He’s calm, courteous, and kind. Giving me everything I need, and not wanting a damn thing in return.
The only person I’ve met who’s been a gentleman with warm hazel eyes and a sharp smile. But the black ink decorating his skin like a service medal tells me that this is the side not many get to see. And maybe, just maybe, that’s one of the reasons I’m drawn to him. Seeing his kindness, but understanding that there’s a darker part inside him.
“Why did you help me?” I ask after a short deliberation on whether I even want to know the answer.
His eyes start moving before his mouth. Softening, hardening, erratically moving from thought. There’s a chance he has a reason but doesn’t want to tell me. There’s an equal chance he doesn’t, and my question catches him off guard.
We stand like this for a long moment. Deafening silence, deep contemplation.
“Because from the second I saw you, I could tell you were something special.” And with that, he takes another step toward the door. “Get some rest. We can talk more once you’re up.”
I nod. A knee-jerk reaction to what he’d said when I’m screaming internally. No one has ever offered help just because. Not to me, anyway. Everything I’ve done, everything I’ve got, has come from bad choices and hard work.
Something special. It rings out in my mind and fills my tummy with butterflies. I stare at the back of his head while he walks. Mouth agape, chest fluttering, desperate for what exactly his statement meant, but too nervous to question it.
And when he stops in the doorway and turns around, those burning eyes falling on my goofy-looking face, I could just fall over and cry from embarrassment. He makes a sound somewhere between a scoff and a chuckle, pleased with what he’s seeing, but doesn’t shine a light on it.
“Name’s Judge, by the way. Clear forgot about the introduction part,” he steps backward through the door.
“Carrie,” I say breathlessly, unable to hold eye contact with him.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Carrie.” With that, he leaves.
And I collapse onto the bed, feeling relief for the first time since I started my journey.
3
JUDGE
Ican’t say for certain what it is about her. Why I care and want to help. But I do.
Almost like some divine and holy being came down and touched me on the shoulder when she walked through my door. Whispered in my ear that this one is yours, and you’d better keep her safe. Hell, I’d have trusted the instinct if it came from my gut, but this is something different.
Every fiber in my being burns to see her smile. Wants to wipe away non-existent tears and tell her that everything’s going to be alright. Show her that the world does have good to combat the evil.
Guess it helps that a man like me treads the line very carefully.
Hours have passed since I left her upstairs. The day has turned to night, and my bar is busier than usual. Shouldn’t be surprised. Word travels fast in these small towns, and now the people are eager to lay their eyes on the man who delivered an ass beating of biblical proportions to two of their own.