Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 118459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 474(@250wpm)___ 395(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 474(@250wpm)___ 395(@300wpm)
“Make it quick,” I say.
“We’re here because Mr. Davidson has generously offered a donation of his earnings from the fight this weekend for your daughter’s care.”
I take a step back. Why didn’t someone tell me this? Why didn’t Crew mention this?
“We’d like to present you with a check for three thousand dollars on behalf of Team Davidson.”
“Oh,” I say, obviously caught off guard. “I . . . um . . . I had no idea. Thank you.”
“You are so welcome.”
“Why didn’t Crew mention this?” I ask. Ever reaches for my hand and I squeeze it. I’m trying not to show that I’m thrown off for her sake, but she’s so attentive, just like Gage was, that I know she reads through my facade.
“I’m not sure,” Jason says. “We’re contracted with Davidson, not Crew. I’m not really sure how much the NAFL communicates with your . . . well, whatever he may be to you.”
“He’s my daddy,” Ever says quietly.
The smile on the blond’s face grows wider.
“That’s nice,” Jason says, smiling halfheartedly at my daughter. He hands me a check for exactly three thousand dollars.
My hands shake as I look at it. “Thank you,” I say, not sure what else to say. My cheeks heat under the gaze of the blond and I’m embarrassed, completely put on the spot. “I wish I would’ve known. I feel so unprepared.”
“You had nothing to prepare for. It’s just a kind gesture aimed at making your hardship a touch easier. An act of charity, if you will.”
“Thank you. Please extend my gratitude to the Davidson team.”
Jason laughs. “This is Mr. Davidson. You can tell him yourself.”
My eyes grow wide as I realize just who this enormous man is. I feel like I’ve been played, like the wolf has gotten into the henhouse.
The check is burning in my palm and I want to tell him to take it back and get out of here. I know the awful things he’s said to Crew. I know this is the guy that hurt him in Minnesota. I want to have Crew’s back on this, to tell him to stick this up his ass.
Ever squeezes my hand again and I’m thrust back into reality. I have to stay calm. I can’t do something stupid, especially considering the reason they’re here. They’re here to help Everleigh and, if I make a scene, it could make Crew lose his focus or the fight altogether.
I plaster on a fake smile. “Thank you, Mr. Davidson.” I hate the sound of the words coming from my lips.
“You are welcome. It was really my pleasure.”
The last word rolls suggestively off his lips. He makes my skin crawl. There’s something very reptilian about him, something that makes me shiver. I just want them to leave. Now.
The door pushes open again and Macie walks in. She starts to smile but stops after seeing the men against the wall. Besides Crew and sometimes Will, there are never other men here, so I know she’s suspicious but I don’t need her causing problems right now either.
“Is everything okay in here?” she asks, crossing her arms in front of her. She‘s clearly ready to flex her muscle and toss them out on their ass. I’d love that but can’t risk making them mad.
“Everything is fine,” I mutter.
Her eyebrows are pulled in, obviously not believing me. “Okay. I need to take Miss Ever down for a test.”
“That’s fine.”
Macie winks at Everleigh and gets the poles and bed rails up and ready to go. “You ready, my lady?”
“I am.” Ever’s voice is soft, but she’s grinning at Macie, her cracked lips spread as far apart as she can. “I’ll be back, Mommy.”
“I’ll be here, baby girl. I love you.”
“Love you.”
Macie wheels her out and casts me a final glance. I subtly shake my head and, before I know it, she’s gone. Immediately, the walls seem to start closing in. I feel like a mouse trapped in a cage with a couple of large cats, ready to pounce on their prey.
I know I have the deer in the headlights look going on. I also know that won’t do me any favors around characters like these.
Before I know what’s happening, Hunter is beside me. He has his arm around my waist. His hands are huge, his fingers spread wide around my hip, the tips nearly touching my breasts.
I try to pull away, but he draws me even closer against his solid frame. I gasp, my hands shoving against him. “Get away from me,” I spit, sucking in a large gulp of air as I react to the violation. My senses are overtaken with the scent of a vomiting department store—expensive colognes mixed with douchbaggery. I push away as hard as I can, but his body is a brick wall.
He laughs a low, bellowing chuckle. I can feel his ribs moving beneath my hands.