Chapter Seventeen - Neveah

Call me what you will but I went.

I stood staring at the closed wooden door of the guest house. Confusion, anger, fear, want, it all suffocated me. The fact that I stood at his door should have told me I needed help, that I was desperate for him.

He’d told me he’d been in prison—in prison. That made sense of the six digit number tattooed on his back, the blank phone and picture of his sister. My stomach lurched as I knocked three times. This was stupid, I was stupid. Despite my inner voice screaming run, I stood on the porch determined to find out why, or how. I needed to know everything.

The door swung open two seconds later. Rage’s hair looked like he hadn’t gotten any rest. Both hands were shoved down into his sweats, showing me the sexy V of his hips and the flat plane of his stomach. After several minutes of staring at each other, his eyes tracing me like it was the last time he’d see me, he opened the door wider. &ldq