Protector of the Mountain (The Mountain Men of Fox Hollow Book 2) by Frankie Love

Author:Frankie Love [Love, Frankie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-06-05T16:00:00+00:00

Rainey

I didn’t mean to lie by omission. But what was I supposed to tell the man of my freaking dreams?

Oh, by the way, Reed, I have to do anything my brother says because if I don’t, I could go to jail.

Because yes, I was a virgin, and yes I love to read… but this club my brother runs is more of a drug ring than anything else.

And my hands are dirty.

So, so dirty.

I go where Tim goes because without his protection, whose do I have?

Reed wasn’t a one-night stand — that was one night where I dreamed of a bigger, better life.

But I could never stay. Reed is a good, honest, honorable man. He can’t seriously think we could work out. I’m too much of a mess for his true grit. Too much of a liability for his love.

But God, it hurts to leave. To walk away without looking back.

When we get to a motel, Tim asks if running off like a little slut was worth it.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I tell him, walking past him to the bathroom, closing the door. His girlfriend Carly-Anne is in there, peeing in the toilet, and I don’t even look at her. I take off my clothes and turn on the shower, wanting heat. Warmth. To stand under the water until it runs cold, memorizing every detail from the night.

“He’s pissed,” Carly-Anne says, pulling open the shower curtain to talk to me where no one else can hear. “When he realized you left the bar, he went apeshit. Beat some people up to find out where that guy lives. Now I have to deal with his bad mood. So thanks for nothing.”

“I didn’t mean to piss him off. But I’m sick of running. Aren’t you?”

Carly-Anne shrugs. “I don’t mind. Better than being homeless.”

“We live in motels,” I say, squeezing the mini bottle of shampoo in my hand. “When will we ever get to stop?”

“Probably never. If we stop, we’ll get caught.”

“I’m so tired. I want a different life.”

“Was the guy worth it?” Carly-Anne asks as I wash my hair. She is the closest thing I have to a friend. She’s been with us for a few years and I want to believe I can trust her.

“Yes,” I say, turning from her as tears fall down my cheeks.

“Good,” she says sadly. “Because we’re all gonna be paying for that little stunt for the next year.”

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