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“I’ll try not to ask any personal questions from here on out. I only have one more.”

He opened his eyes and met hers. She wasn’t pissed, she wasn’t upset, but he could read the disappointment. Seeing that was like a kick in the nuts.

Instead of apologizing to her, even though he wanted to, he said, “Runnin’ outta time.”

“You’re right. Sorry for wasting time.”

“Fuck, Chelle,” he groaned. Fuck him, he caused that flat tone in her voice. It wasn’t only disappointment, it was hurt. Now he really felt like a piece of shit.

He snagged one of her hands she had curled in her lap and pulled it to his lips, brushing them over her knuckles. “You don’t have to do this. I can paint everything you want done and you can just pay me whenever you get the scratch.”

She shook her head but didn’t pull her hand from his. “No, that’s not fair and I want to do this. So... Let’s get started. I’ve never taught an adult to read before, so please bear with me. I’ll do the best I can. I have access to resources that will help guide me and also you. I can also ask some of the teachers for guidance, too, if we run into any issues. I brought home a few lesson books and read through the introductions—”

“Did your homework,” he interrupted.

“Yes, I was trying to be prepared. But first, do you know the alphabet?”

They were back to business. If he had a chance, he’d make up for being an asshole later. If she wanted that. He hoped to fuck she did.

“Yeah. Alphabet and numbers.” He wasn’t as bad with numbers like he was with letters. He could do some basic math. But even that he tried to avoid since he was afraid he’d get it wrong.

One “daddy” managed to teach him to count up to ten along with the alphabet, but then got frustrated when he even struggled with those. At first, the man insisted Shade was doing it on purpose just to be difficult. Then he gave up and called him stupid. And worse.

After giving up, that owner told him he’d only be good for one thing... To be someone’s pet. That Shade should be collared and leashed like a dog. Not to be petted, coddled and loved, but taught obedience.

Used as his owner saw fit.

His next owner removed the locked leather collar but didn’t treat him any better and also didn’t give a fuck whether Shade was smart or stupid.

His previous owner was right. He was only good for one thing. The reason he was purchased, or traded, and why he was sold once an owner got bored with him, or he got too old.

No. Not now.

He forced himself back to the room when Chelle asked, “You just don’t know how to string them together to write and read, correct?”

“Yeah. Can’t put them together.”

She scratched her forehead. “I’m not sure how you graduated high school without being able to take tests and do school assignments.”

That was because he never spent even one day in a school.

Luckily, she didn’t wait for that answer. She was now consciously trying not to dig.

His chest loosened and he finally released the grip on her hand that had tightened when he was yanked briefly into his past. She hadn’t complained but he didn’t want to hurt her, especially during those moments he was dragged backward and sometimes lost track of the present.

She squeezed his forearm and shot him a little smile. “Okay, let’s begin...”

Chapter Eleven

Ten left.

Ten, if his count was correct.

Ten, as long as they didn’t bring in any more males into the Shirley compound.

If they were smart, that was what they’d do, if they hadn’t already. No one claimed the Shirleys were smart. If they were, they never would’ve grabbed Dyna after being warned not to fuck with the Fury.

With his boots propped up on the stone ledge circling the center fireplace, he stared sightlessly at the cold gray ashes at the very bottom of the hearth. The night was too warm to start a fire. Not that he planned on being in The Barn long anyway.

Church was currently deserted. Not only a rare occurrence, but why he didn’t bother to head out to the pavilion to numb himself before hitting his mattress.

Even the bunkhouse had been quiet when he’d walked down the corridor. The prospects would be doing their late shifts at Crazy Pete’s and maybe something was going on at the bar tonight, drawing the rest of his brothers.

If there was, he hadn’t been told about it. Not that he would’ve gone. He tended to avoid Crazy Pete’s and preferred to stick close to the bunkhouse when he drank. Because most of the time he drank until his brain was numb and riding his sled in that condition would be fucking stupid.

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