Series: Webs We Weave Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 145038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
I blink past the scalding tears to try to see Rocky, but I can barely make him out clearly through the glassy film. “I shouldn’t have had to need you, but our moms knew in this stupid fucking world, a man is what protects me from another man. I am a thing.” I press my hands angrily to my chest. “To people like him, that’s what I’ll always be.” I blink a few more times, and tears stream down my cheeks.
I wipe them roughly away.
Rocky is close.
He drops to his knees in front of me. While I’m still on the edge of the bed, his hands hover around my elbows. “You burn at the same temperature as me,” he breathes fiercely. “So when you say you’re angry, I fucking know.” His voice is hoarse. “I know.”
He’s been there.
He’s always been there.
Our rage brews together. Visceral, unyielding, controlled fury. Our love is just as volcanic, and there is an undercurrent, a need inside of us, to just explode.
My eyes sear. “Then you know, here, in this town…it’s a chance for us to do more, Rocky. To really make someone pay.”
Trying to help Jake claim the Koning crown—it takes bad people out of power. People who are diseased by it, who should’ve never had it in the first place.
I take a breath, adding, “And what if there’s not another way than to use me? What if he does this to another girl?”
“That doesn’t mean you should be that girl.”
“But I could be the last one,” I say, sounding hopeful. “It could end with me.”
Rocky never shies from me. “Ask yourself, Phebs, what do you really want? I know you can get through this job. I know you can take it—like you always fucking have. But after Carlsbad—”
“I don’t want the Fiddle Game to change anything.” I wince because I know, deep down, it already has.
“It’s okay if it did,” Rocky says. “Really, it should probably change how you look at the job.” He edges forward just a little but doesn’t touch me. “My sister brought you here because she saw how Carlsbad affected you, and you can try to keep running away from it—but it’s here again. In this job.” His gaze grips mine. “You said this is our chance to do more. It’s also our chance to do things our way. Your choice, not theirs. What do you want to do, Phoebe? You. Not me, not them. But you.”
I intake slow, cavernous breaths, and I careen forward, my forehead pressing to his. Lifting his hands to my cheeks, I place them there and hold them against my face.
His large palms encase me. They’re warm. Safety. Devotion.
Power.
He’s breathing harder. “Phoebe.” He’s scared of my answer, but he would do anything for me. He already has.
“If there’s a way where I don’t have to be in that position with him, then I think…I know I’d choose not to be. You take Trent. I take Claudia. I can handle her.”
His hand slides into my hair, clutching. He presses a hot kiss against my lips. It beckons me forward, and when it breaks, it’s not enough.
I want to be wrapped up in him. “Can you hold me?” I ask in a whisper.
He casts a look over his shoulder while he lifts me in his arms. “This has been fun and all, Jake, but you’re going to need to get the fuck out.”
I swear Jake is smiling. “Bye, Phoebe,” he says pointedly at the door, not offering that same farewell to my real boyfriend.
“Bye, Jake.” I’m entrapped by the man who has me so completely. In every way that matters, I am Rocky’s.
TWENTY-FOUR
Rocky
Two Months Ago
The Alps
Northwestern Italy
On the foothills of the Matterhorn, overlooking a prestigious Italian ski town, the Konings’ chalet stands like a beacon of wealth. It screams look at me! with its six floors, three-sixty-degree views of the snow-peaked mountain, an indoor pool, spa and sauna, fully outfitted gym, and state-of-the-art wine cellar.
Oliver was the one who looked around and casually said to me, “Some people have too much.”
I know this is why he’s a grifter. Not for the power, like me.
He does it because he truly believes there should be a limit to wealth. That billionaires shouldn’t be able to hoard more than they need and create generations of lazy, entitled spawn. So he takes from them.
Being here, under the guise of Trent Waterford’s best friend, I’ve never felt more of a hunger to take. And it has nothing to do with the fucking Ferrari in his garage.
As Trent’s plus-one, I’m silently expected to stay by his side like a Pomeranian. Be engaging enough to be a good time without overstepping and taking the spotlight for myself. Never be too boring or dull as that will get my plus-one invite revoked on the spot.