Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 89985 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89985 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
I had no fucking clue what he was talking about. I got it. Everyone got dealt different hands. Some of us had it shittier than others.
“Death is the final chapter in every person’s life, Peter. Birth and death, the journey is what we all make it.” He glanced past my shoulder and I turned to find The Beast arriving in another car. “Here is your ride. Get the job done.”
And with that, I was dismissed like a fucking child.
I didn’t even know what the fuck Ivan was talking about and now I was even more angry than when I had arrived.
Niamh might be pregnant. She had missed her last menstrual cycle, and I should know. I’d documented when she was last on hers, and it was over five weeks ago.
The last person I wanted to ride with was The Beast, but I needed to get back to town, and riding in a dead man’s car was not an option. Clearly, Ivan wasn’t going to drive me into town.
Slamming the door closed, I couldn’t help but wonder why Niamh was so different. I was made aware of Ivan’s constant meddling in the other Brigadiers’ lives. He was a constant presence, talking with their wives, getting close to them. Being more like a friend and possible brother to them.
Yet, Ivan was nowhere to be seen when it came to Niamh.
Why not?
Why was he keeping his distance while at the same time protecting her?
This made no sense to me. The Beast didn’t talk.
I wasn’t about to ask him questions. Ivan might trust these two killers, but I wasn’t going to trust them with anything, not until they had earned it, and right now, they hadn’t earned jack shit.
The Beast pulled up on the sign outside of town, and parked the car. I was about to reach for the door handle when The Beast finally spoke.
“Can Ivan Volkov be trusted?” The Beast asked.
I turned toward the man.
The Beast was as big a mystery as The Butcher. Only, The Beast was tall and looked like he could kill anyone. The Butcher, on the other hand, didn’t look quite so capable, although I had heard she’d gutted many men and had even removed limbs, penises, and plenty other horror stories, all of which I didn’t want to think about in that moment.
“Yes.”
“You’re not even going to ask me why I’ve asked?” The Beast asked.
“No, I’m not interested in knowing why you’re curious.”
“Ivan Volkov is a … mystery.”
I shrugged. “There is no mystery. Ivan Volkov is a loyal man. He’s scary as fuck, and the shit he can do, well, don’t get on his bad side, it doesn’t end well for you. Of course, there is also that pesky rumor that he’s immortal and he can’t die.” He might have faked his own death once. “Ivan has his own ways of dealing with stuff. We don’t always know why he does the things he does, or his reasoning, but when he’s ready for you to know, it will be revealed to you. It always is.”
Which is why I knew I had to wait. Ivan had his reasoning for not coming to see Niamh, for not meddling. One day, I would find out the truth, and when that happened, all would be revealed.
****
Niamh
I should have left town. Each day I planned to tell Peter that it is time for me to move on, we’d start kissing, and then I’d forget what I meant to say.
Then of course, the kissing lead to, well, more kissing, which lead to us being naked, and then sex. I liked sex. The first time had been incredibly painful. I’d even expected the pain. The second time had been much better, and now I’d lost count of how good it was.
Several of the women in town couldn’t stand me. They didn’t like that I’d won Peter Shadows and they hadn’t. They hadn’t stopped trying, though. Peter told me regularly of some of their antics, but he was already well-prepared for them. I could imagine that pissed them all off.
Stepping out of the diner at a little past eight, I turned to find Peter leaning up against his car, a smile on his lips.
When we first met, he rarely smiled, but now, as I stepped toward him, he opened his arms. He embraced me and I felt … safe. This is another reason I hadn’t left. For the first time in my life, I felt safe. I was in Peter’s arms. Nothing bad could happen. But I knew I was a fool. My father would kill this man without a second thought, and I didn’t want to be responsible for killing him.
I liked him and I was a little afraid I might even be falling in love with him. Which had to be crazy. I’d read the stories of love at first sight and all those other tales of meeting “the one,” at the perfect moment. They sounded like the perfect dream, only to me that was the fantasy, because of my father.