Nash: A Rough Romance by Piper Stone (book series for 12 year olds txt) 📕

on. The monster had found me. I crawled my fingers over my torso, realizing the covers had been wound around my legs in my sleep. After fumbling, I was finally able to slide out of bed, my bare feet hitting the very cold floor. The shadows encroaching upon everything were ominous, keeping the wave of fear tickling every inch of my body, forcing horrible thoughts into my head. What if Giordani’s thugs had killed Reaper?

Think clearly. Then you’d already be dead.

Or worse.

Giordani’s last threat, or what he’d called a promise, had been that he would find me. Then he would keep me as his private pet. I shivered from a combination of the cold and the horrible reckoning occurring in my mind. I would kill myself before allowing that to happen.

I made my way forward, my hip hitting a heavy piece of furniture. I finally found a doorknob and turned, slowly opening the door. The slight creak made me wince. I had to be as silent as possible if I wanted to survive. Panting, I bit back a moan as I made my way down the hall, trying to remember the layout of the cabin. My head ached from the amount of liquor I’d had as well as sheer exhaustion.

You can do this. You can.

My inner voice wasn’t helping me in the least.

A warm orange glow finally cut through the darkness, allowing me to make out additional shapes as I made my way to the end of the hall. I stopped just short of the living room, carefully peering around the corner. No one was there. No one. Reaper was gone. Oh, God. No!

A slight squeal involuntarily left my lips even as I tried to suck it back. I could see his weapon remaining on the table. If I could make my way and grab it, maybe I’d have a chance. After that, I had no idea what the hell I could do except kill the bastards. I listened for any sounds. Hearing nothing but the crackling of what was left of the fire, I took tentative steps into the room, darting my head back and forth.

I had difficulty breathing, my throat tightening as I advanced toward the gun. It had been years since I’d even held one in my hands, let alone pressed a trigger. As I scooped the piece into my hands, the weight seemed heavier than I remembered. Shooting a gun was just like riding a bike. Right?

Another cracking sound from somewhere close to the front of the house made me jump. Where the hell were Reaper’s keys? They had to be somewhere close. I didn’t see the man as completely organized, but he wouldn’t hide his keys. After taking several shallow breaths, I made my way toward another part of the house, staring into a darkened room. The absence of light was even more oppressive than before.

Move. Move!

I bit my lip then took tentative steps inside, turning swiftly the second I heard what sounded like another heavy boom then a thud against the front door. Shaking, I pulled the gun into both hands before rushing into the living room just as the front door was kicked in, slamming against the wall. My heart in my throat, I did the only thing I could do.

I fired a shot.

Pop!

“What. The. Fuck?”

The deep baritone voice reverberated in my ears. I hadn’t killed the bastard. I was barely able to hold onto the weapon I was shaking so badly, beads of perspiration running down both sides of my face. I could do this. I had to get the hell out of here. The second I was prepared to fire another shot, a flash of motion caught my eye, the intruder dropping whatever was in his arms and bolting forward.

“Mitch. Stop!”

The voice becoming recognizable, a hard body slammed into mine, shoving me backwards and against a wall, hands yanking my arms over my head.

Pop!

The second shot echoed, the noise mixing with my yelp of anguish.

“No!” I moaned.

“Fuck. Me.”

Reaper.

“What the hell did you think you were doing?” he barked as he grappled to remove the gun from my hands.

I continued to shudder, trying to force the horrible terror away. I’d almost shot him. “I… I heard a loud noise. I thought…” The dim lighting only highlighted the fury in his eyes as he continued to hold my wrists with one hand, slowly lowering the weapon with the other.

“You thought what? A bear was going to break into the house?” Huffing, he shook his head as he stared into my eyes. “You almost killed me.”

“I’m sorry. Okay?”

He pushed the weight of his body against mine, his breathing labored. My heart echoed in my ears as I fought the continuing fear, finally sagging against the wall. He refused to let go of my arms, his face dangerously close to mine, his voluptuous lips far too close.

“What the hell is going on, Mitch?”

“I was just afraid. I woke up and it was dark.”

“Uh-huh,” he said as he lowered his head even further, his hot, scattered breaths dancing across my face. “Don’t bullshit me.”

“What… happened?” I leaned into him, daring him to kiss me. Jesus. What was I thinking?

“A tree limb fell on one of the main generators. Knocked out the power. I ain’t gonna be able to fix it until in the morning.” He studied me intently, his eyes never blinking and damn if his scent wasn’t driving me crazy.

“That’s all?”

Chuckling, he finally backed away, clicking the safety on the weapon. “Yeah, that’s it. Happens up here. Now, I’m going to pick up that load of firewood that I was forced to drop when you tried to kill me. Then, we’re going to talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Like hell there isn’t.”

His words were harsh, the man obviously fed up with me. I glared at him defiantly, darting another look toward the open door. I was chilled to the bone, the howling wind and blowing snow barely adding to the paralyzing feeling coursing through every vein.