Spent (Wrecked #2) by Charity Parkerson Read Free Book Online Page A

cherry-flavored body butter.”
    Sol chuckled and took a step back. Her eyes fluttered open. He seemed twice as wicked.
    “God can’t hear you here. Even if he could, I think he stopped handing out body butter a few centuries back.”
    “And the handcuffs?”
    One corner of Sol’s mouth lifted, kicking up the mischievousness in his gaze. “I’m well stocked.”
    Bailey shook her head, attempting to chase away the spell he weaved over her. “I don’t doubt it. Now, even though I’m impressed beyond words, I’m still dying to see what’s next.”
    “You make my heart race.”
    Of all the responses in all the world, Sol chose that one. It was as if he always knew the exact thing to say to leave her completely speechless. He reminded Bailey of every instance when she’d been on a date, wondering what the man was thinking, and hoping it was something amazing. Every sweet response she could dream up rolled from Sol’s tongue without the least bit of thought or effort.
    “In a good way, I hope,” Bailey said, trying to keep her thoughts from spilling out.
    “Yes,” Sol said, holding out his arm like a gentleman. When she accepted, he steered her deeper inside. “When you’ve lived as long as I have, it’s unique.” His claim sent Bailey’s curiosity into overdrive. Sol’s choice of words said more than she thought he intended. Whatever he was, and she had her ideas, he was alive—not dead like her, but something else entirely. “You’ve gone quiet.”
    Instead of mulling it over, Bailey chose to be as open as Sol had been. “If I asked you a question, would you be honest with me?”
    “I’m always honest, unless I’m not.”
    Bailey shook her head. Sol was a mess. “Fair enough. Should I be afraid of you?”
    A door appeared before them. Sol pulled her to a stop and met her gaze. “You should be terrified.” Without breaking her stare, Sol reached past her and opened the door. Bailey couldn’t look away from his eyes. He was serious. She should run.
    Bailey searched her heart and came up empty. “I’m not.”
    Sol’s features transformed, becoming sinister. “I know.”
    “Why should I be afraid?”
    His hand found her cheek. The heat of his skin seared her. “Sometimes cruelty and mercy look so similar we can’t tell the difference any longer.”
    Bailey’s mind stuttered to a stop. She’d heard those words before. Her brain scrambled to remember where. The memory was just out of reach, like the wisp of a dream. Before she could grab hold, Sol nodded toward the room, reminding her of their errand. She glanced inside and every worry disappeared. Books filled the entire space. From floor to ceiling and wall to wall, leather bound copies of everything imaginable packed the room. The smell was even better than the flower’s. She loved books, especially when they were old, and Sol’s obviously were. The only furniture other than shelves was a large wooden desk and two chairs.
    As if its pages called to her, Bailey moved to a book sitting open on the desk. She could feel Sol following on her heels, but she couldn’t resist the pull of the tome’s power. The words were handwritten. Ink stained the pages yellowed by time. The tips of her fingers skimmed the indentations of each letter. Odd shapes surrounded by scribbled notes filled every corner. It took Bailey a minute to realize what she was seeing.
    “It’s spells.”
    Sol’s hand found the small of her back as he leaned over her shoulder. “Yes. Some as old as time. Which reminds me… give me a moment. I need to gather a few things.”
    Without waiting for her response, Sol disappeared. While she waited, Bailey flipped through the pages, attempting to discern what she read. A few symbols with notes, naming them as meant to reveal hidden objects, caught her eye. Her hand hovered over the page. An idea snuck in. Perhaps this was her ticket to freedom—at least, as much as she’d ever be free here. Before her mother’s death, Bailey