Page 103 of Altered

No feelings.

If I was any other person, I would have believed he truly had no feelings inside of his body.

But I wasn’t any other person.

The man had an incredible poker face. The only problem was I could see straight through it. It was obvious to me, the woman who had been watching him almost obsessively for more than a year now.

His face was the epitome of calm, but I could see the fire bubbling up in his blue irises, and I could see the slight flare of his nostrils as kept his gaze firmly locked on my father, andnoton me.

His carefree attitude cloaked his pain, and his consumption of coffee and cigarettes took the edge off his temper, but the man beneath the weapon was in there.

And I was dying to get to that man.

My pulse hammered so loudly I was sure it was audible to everyone around me.

Forcing myself to keep my breathing even and slow, I desperately sought through my thoughts, plotting my escape to my lover.

The bond we shared, it was impenetrable.

What he'd done for me?

It had solidified the already unbreakable link between us.

I just needed to find a way to get him to forgive me.

And then tell him that I was pregnant...

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Chapter Forty-One

Lucky

It wasn’t often I felt the old pull of fatigue, but fuck me, I was feeling it today. A five-hundred-mile and back trip had kicked my ass. Hell, that many hours alone in my truck had screwed with my head.

The entire journey I'd spent thinking about Hope.

And when I thought about Hope, I thought about who she was at home with.

And when I thought about who she was at home with, I got mad.

Burning fucking mad.

I had planned on heading straight to my apartment and crashing, but the voicemail Noah had left on my burner phone made that impossible.

"Kyle's back from Vale, and he's on the way over to my house. He's going batshit. He can't get a hold of Hope, he can't get a hold of you, and I'm fairly certain he's about two damn minutes away from losing his shit. He knows something's up, Luck, so get your ass back here and help me figure out what the fuck we're gonna tell him."

That voicemail was the reason I was standing in Noah's kitchen, locked in a stare down with Kyle Carter, and trying my very fucking best tonotlook at his daughter.

Looking at her causedfeelings.

I couldn’t afford to have feelings right now.

The shit I was messed up in was insane.

I needed to keep my head in the game and out of the clouds.

Kyle was flanked by the three younger versions of him, and I didn’t give a shit about any of them. If he knew where the fuck I'd been, I doubt he'd still try and call me.

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