Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 44902 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44902 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
“You can’t p-promise that.”
“Yeah, I can.” He cranes my head back, meeting my gaze. The conviction in his eyes, the absolute certainty that he can give me this, steadies me in a way nothing ever has. “Marry me, Landry.”
I gape at him with wide eyes. “What?”
“Marry me,” he repeats, his voice steady and sure. “My ring on your finger means you’ll never belong to them. You’ll be mine in every way.”
“I…”
“Think about it, sweetness,” he whispers. “It’s easy to make a woman with no ties disappear. It’s a lot harder to make one with a family vanish. They know it, too.” He wraps his pinky around my ring finger. “And my ring right here will remind you, every fucking day, that you belong right here. When you feel like running, you’ll know you have someone to run to, not something to run from.”
“You can’t just marry me to protect me, Keegan,” I object feebly. Being tied to him sounds so damn good, like a dream come true. But I don’t want to be something he regrets, someone he marries because he’s the kind of guy who would make that sacrifice for my protection. He deserves better than that.
“Who says I am?” His eyes blaze with heat when they meet mine again. They burn with something else too, some level of desire I’ve never seen before. “I want my ring on your finger because you’re mine, Landry. Because I’ve loved you every single second of the last year, and that will never change.”
Conviction and devotion vibrate in his voice in equal measures. This isn’t something he just decided on a whim, or something he’s doing for me. I think maybe it’s something he’s been thinking about…maybe since we met a year ago.
“Yes.”
His eyes flutter closed, a look of complete bliss on his face.
Seeing him wearing that expression stitches together another of my broken pieces. The ground firms beneath my feet, and my tenuous hold on hope becomes a little more solid.
Because of him. Because this man is willing to fight for me when no one else ever has. And he loves me in a way I don’t think anyone else ever will.
It’s enough. God, it’s more than enough.
Chapter Eleven
Keegan
The week before Landry marries me is the best goddamn week of my life. My fiancée and daughter are at home with me, where they belong. Dillon is building a case against the Sons of Loki and her uncle. The MC has my place locked down tighter than Fort Knox.
Most importantly, Landry seems at peace in a way she never has before now. She doesn’t push me away or fight me. There’s a light in her eyes that’s brand new. It’s hope, and it’s fucking beautiful.
The day of the wedding, Samara and Elodie arrive early to take her and Lily to Elodie’s to get ready. We don’t have a big ceremony planned. We’re going to the courthouse and getting married in the judge’s chambers, where he’ll keep the license until the Sons of Loki are handled. But my sister and Samara want to make the day special for her anyway.
She deserves that. Hell, she deserves every goddamn thing under the sun.
As soon as they pull off with Tate and Coby in tow to watch over them, Giant jogs up the sidewalk toward me, his expression somber.
“You ready to go talk to Dillon and Jude?” he asks.
“Yeah.” I pull the door closed behind me. I’ve been putting off this conversation for the last few days, but I can’t put it off any longer. Before we get married, I want her to know that jail isn’t looming in her future. She deserves that peace of mind.
Giant is unusually quiet on the drive down to Dillon’s office…which worries the fuck out me. The man never shuts up. He’s been terrorizing this town since the day he planted roots.
“What’s up?” I finally growl, glancing over at him.
“Nothing. What’s up with you?”
“Cut the shit, Cormac. You’re being too fucking quiet. I know you know something.”
“Maybe I’m just a contemplative motherfucker.”
“Right. And pigs have wings.”
“Might.” He shrugs. “They can do all kinds of crazy shit with DNA now.”
I crack a smile despite myself. “Start talking, asshole.”
“Goddammit,” he mutters and then huffs a sigh. “Her uncle filed a missing person’s report in Dallas yesterday.”
“What the fuck? Why now?”
“Dillon thinks the MC may have spotted the DEA agent watching the club. If they know they’re planning to raid, then they’ve probably figured out where they got the intel from,” he says, his voice a worried rumble.
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter, my grip tight on the steering wheel. Thanks to Finn and Ryker, finding the club didn’t take nearly as long as it might have. The FBI and DEA have been getting their ducks in a row to raid at the first sign of an auction. They wanted the buyers inside first, though, so they’ve been waiting and watching. “Dallas actually took the report?”