Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 33577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
"Why did you protect me like that?" I asked, my voice steadier than I expected. "And why are we pretending to be a couple? There had to be other solutions."
Jack didn't answer immediately. He moved around the room with controlled precision, each motion deliberate and economical. No wasted energy. He checked a handgun that had been tucked into his waistband, ejecting the magazine to inspect it before sliding it back into place with a click that made me flinch. He peeled off his leather vest with the club's insignia and hung it carefully on a hook by the door, his fingers lingering on the patches for a moment.
I watched him, transfixed by the fluid way he moved. For such a large man, he had an unexpected grace, like a tiger padding around its territory. It was obvious he was taking his time, choosing his words carefully.
"I staked my claim on you in front of a rival club," he finally said, his voice flat and matter-of-fact. "There's no backing out. That's not how this shit works."
"But—"
"No." He cut me off with a single sharp word. "You don't understand how this world operates. Once I marked you as mine, that's it. If I walk it back now, I look weak. The club looks weak. And you?" His eyes raked over me, sending heat crawling up my neck. "You become fair game."
My throat tightened, making it hard to swallow. "Fair game?"
"They'd take you to get to me. To prove they could. To humiliate me and my club." His voice stayed eerily calm, but his eyes hardened. "And they wouldn't be gentle about it."
The blood drained from my face as the implication sank in. I didn't want to believe him, but the memory of Shank's hand around my throat, the way he'd looked at me like I was a thing to be used, made his words ring with terrible truth. “Why would you do this? To your club? To me?” I shook my head, unable to believe this was actually happening.
“Because, in a war, nothing is off limits. The only question is degrees of risk.” He sank into a nearby chair, scrubbing a hand over his face. It surprised me that this huge, battle hardened man who was obviously not in the habit of explaining himself, who had just beat the living shit out of several men, would bother to even talk to someone like me, much less let me know what was happening and why. I wasn’t even supposed to be here! Not to mention the man owed me nothing. I was the one who didn’t belong. “Shank wouldn’t have hesitated to take you or come back for you if he knew you were here on your own. If for no other reason than to plant a spy in our midst. Reluctant or not. What I’m interested in is what Shank thought you knew.”
“Something about wanting to know what I heard. But I don’t know what he was talking about.” I swallowed hard. Though I hadn’t done anything, whether or not this man believed me remained to be seen.
“Anyone else in the hallway before I got there?” I nodded, afraid to say much, terrified to say something wrong and bring down his wrath on me. “Do you know who it was?”
“No.”
Jack narrowed his gaze, his jaws bunching at the sides as he clenched his teeth. “I get you’re scared, Honey. You’re right to be scared. But I need the truth from you. I’ll protect you with the full weight of my club, but you’ve got to be honest.” I nodded again, unsure what to do or say. The last thing I wanted to do was to make this situation worse because I couldn’t navigate the social system. When I said nothing else, Jack gave me a threatening look. “Girl…”
“It was a woman,” I blurted out. “I don’t know her name but Wren would.”
“Club whore?”
“I don’t know. If she’s still here, I could point her out.” I spoke softly, trembling so hard my teeth chattered.
Jack stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor with a harsh sound that made me jump. "We'll deal with that later." He moved to a closet and pulled out a black T-shirt, tossing it in my direction. I caught it against my chest, the soft cotton a stark contrast to the rigid leather I was wearing. "Get out of that shit. You look like you're gonna pass out."
I clutched the shirt tighter, suddenly aware of how constricting the corset had become and how much top boob the damned thing showed. My ribs ached from the tight lacing, and every breath felt labored. But the thought of changing clothes in front of this man, this stranger who'd declared me his property, made my pulse spike. Not necessarily in a good way either.