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Chapter Forty-Three
publish date:
2026-06-15 11:34:06
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Sold For $1 To The Hawthorne Brothers Chapter Forty-Three
I flinch as a motorcycle pulls up beside me, engine revving. Shane swings off it, yanking his helmet free. “Hey.” He falls into step beside me without missing a beat. “I haven’t seen you all week. Two weeks, actually. I thought about messaging you, but after what happened at the club…” He trails off, rubbing the back of his neck. “Also, I realized I didn’t have your number.” I frown slightly. The club? Oh. With everything I’d been through this past week — almost getting kidnapped, having some combination of black market paralytic agents injected into me, fighting for my life, the nightmares, the flashbacks to my teenage years, the hospital checkup where I nearly fainted in the waiting room — I completely forgot that I’d ditched Shane the night Marcus dragged us out, because Julian showed up out of nowhere and whisked me to the pizza place. And the Russians. I can’t forget the Russians. They’d kicked the whole thing off — showing up at the house, then ambushing
Sold For $1 To The Hawthorne Brothers Chapter Forty-Two
“Are you sure?” he asks again. I nod. “I need you.” His hands guide me without rushing, and I tilt my head back, meeting his darkened gaze, full of heat and affection that makes my heart stutter and swell. His arousal nudges at my entrance, and I turn, with some help, to straddle him. I reach into the water, stroking him with the soapy water slipping between my fingers. He groans as he leans in, kissing me. “god, you’re perfect.” I lift a little and sink again, taking him inch by inch. My body protests from the aches all around, but the pressure only makes me want him more. The stretch, as I take him in, is so exquisite it steals my breath. I gasp against his lips as his arms circle my waist. “Don’t move,” he whispers. “Not yet.” We stay like that—joined and breathing in each other as the water lapped at our skin and sloshed over the tub’s edge. “You’re tight,” he murmurs as he kisses my neck, resting his head on my chest. His hands slide up and down my back and st
Sold For $1 To The Hawthorne Brothers Chapter Forty-One
The ride home from the hospital is quiet. Adrian doesn’t let go of my hand the entire way, his shoulder carrying the weight of my droopy head. When the car stops and he carries me inside like I weigh nothing, his arms are careful not to press against the bruises I can’t even see yet. “I asked Grace to run a bath for you,” he says. I realize, when he doesn’t take the stairs, that he’s not taking me to my bedroom. He pushes open a door, carrying me through space with muted wall colors, and then he pushes through another door. The faint smell of lavender and warm sandalwood fills the air as he carries me into the bathroom. Steam curls lazily from the surface of the massive marble tub in the middle. My body feels like it has been run over by a truck, and every muscle screams when he gently sets me down. “I’ll be outside,” he murmurs, walking away and closing the door softly behind him. I manage to get the thick pair of cotton sweatpants off, pausing several times
Sold For $1 To The Hawthorne Brothers Chapter Forty
“You don’t know what the fuck is wrong with her?” a voice snarls somewhere nearby. “It’s your job. Your goddamn job to make sure she stops passing out every fucking second.” I toss from side to side, my head lolling against the pillow as I fight to surface through the thick fog weighing down my body. Every sound feels distant, muffled, as if I’m listening from underwater. “Sir—” another voice cuts in, calmer, male. A doctor, maybe. “I promise you, we’re doing everything we can.” My eyelids flutter, but they refuse to stay open. “We couldn’t properly identify what was in her system before,” the doctor continues, “but we’ve administered the right antidote. She should be awake any minute now.” A sharp exhale follows. “Any minute now?” the first man snaps. “That’s what you said three hours ago.” My brow furrows. I know that voice. The anger in it feels familiar, wrapped around something raw and desperate. “Her vitals are stabilizing,” the doctor says carefully. “That’s
Sold For $1 To The Hawthorne Brothers Chapter Thirty-Nine
Julian clears his throat. “Ahem. I think I’ll wait outside so you two can talk.” I don’t look at him. Adrian doesn’t, either. I take a deep breath as the door closes, feeling the heat of his gaze as it clouds the room. “It was my fault,” I launch into my explanation before he can speak, “so I should be the one to fix it.” “You?” His brows arch sharply as he crosses the room in angry strides. “Did you meet up with the man Gerald wanted to sell you off to, agree to be drugged with a black-market drug, while planting the Russians to ambush me?” He bites the words out one by one, his eyes darkening and his voice rough. “Did you tell him the only way to stop Julian from tearing the head off his body for laying a hand on you was to kill him?” I shake my head slowly, the fight—that I didn’t have in the first place—in me dying. My chest tightens as his gaze softens, his hand closing around mine. I bite my lip, fighting tears as his thumb strokes my inner palm, soothing the ache in
Sold For $1 To The Hawthorne Brothers Chapter Thirty-Eight
I wake up to a glare too bright for my eyes to focus, and a marching band taking up all the room in my head, banging their drums mercilessly. I struggle to adjust to the light, lifting my hand that weighs a thousand pounds to my face to shield some of the glare. Muffled sounds reach my ears, like jumbled speech underwater, and a moment later, the room dims. “Alina?” A rough, warm voice fills my ears. My eyes fly open, my neck twisting to the side with a surge of realization. “I…” my throat protests as I try to speak, leaving me with a desert-dry cough. A cup of water touches my lips almost immediately, with the same voice gently urging me to drink. Fingers slip through my hair, cradling my head in support as I swallow. I’m carefully lowered to the bed again, and my throat feels less parched. “Alina?” The voice is clearer. Excitement and relief surge through me so fast I barely have time to think about how heavy my body feels. I shoot up, needing to tell someone. To te
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