Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 61942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
We didn’t say much over dinner. We spent a lot of time together now, so there wasn’t always much to talk about. His eyes were on me most of the time, catching glimpses of my face when he thought I wasn’t looking. “I feel like there’s something wrong.”
Guess I wasn’t as good of an actress as I thought. “I guess I’m just confused…”
“About?”
“I don’t know…it’s complicated.” I was making all of this up on the fly.
He moved closer to the table, resting his elbows on the tablecloth because the waiter had removed our dirty dishes. “Talk to me, Laura.”
“I left my job. Left my apartment. Left everything to come here and kill my father. But now…I don’t know.”
“You’re getting cold feet.”
“I wouldn’t call it cold feet. I just…feel differently. It’s nice to spend time with my sister. It’s nice to be home again. It’s nice to…have a relationship with you. Maybe I’m just going crazy, but I’m not sure if I even want to hurt my father anymore…”
He didn’t blink, hung on every word.
“I mean, I’m angry. A part of me will always be angry. But…I don’t know… I’m not making any sense.”
“Actually, it makes sense to me,” he said. “Before everything happened, we were happy. You were happy. Now, it’s like you’re back in time. Why destroy something that makes you happy? Because if you did kill your father, it would destroy everything else. There’d be nothing left.”
My heart sank because I saw it—the truth.
Bartholomew was right.
Victor had played me—and he’d played me good.
I made sure my expression didn’t change as the truth sank in. My father knew everything. My father knew I was biding my time for the opportunity to torture him the way he’d tortured me. When he came to my apartment, he knew. When he made that comment about Victor…he was playing me.
I was such an idiot. “What about you? How do you feel?”
“How do I feel about what?”
“You said you wanted to hurt my father for what he did to me.” The fact that that was a lie hurt even more, because he hadn’t changed at all. He’d never stand up for me. He’d never defend me. He’d never be the man Bartholomew was.
“It was an asshole thing to do, and I’ll always be upset about it. But there was no long-term damage to your arm. You made a full recovery, and you’re right about what you said—that our lives would be forever different if he were dead.”
No long-term damage? How about trauma? Heartbreak? Insatiable blood lust?
“I support whatever you decide.”
Sure. “I’m not sure if my relationship with my father will ever be what it used to be. I was still loyal to him in our estrangement, but I’m not sure if I can ever be that loyal again. Just because I don’t want him dead doesn’t mean I trust him.”
“That’s fair.”
“I’m just confused right now…”
“There’s no rush. I’ve enjoyed the time we’ve spent together.”
It took all my strength to say the words back and mean them. “Yeah…me too.”
The second phone rang, and I quickly answered it. “Hey.”
His deep voice was on the other line. “Hey, sweetheart.”
We hadn’t spoken in a couple days, and the second I heard his voice, I melted into a puddle. “I miss you…” I’d turned into one of those clingy women who couldn’t give their man space. But there was so much I couldn’t say during those six weeks apart, so I didn’t hesitate to say it now. It still felt like a dream, having this man walk back into my life and look at me the way he used to.
A long stretch of silence passed, a buildup of tension.
“Are you still there?”
“Yes. Just enjoying your words.”
“I missed you every day…”
“I missed you every night.” My eyes closed, memorizing the sound of his voice, the way it wrapped around me like he was there with me. “How was your day?”
“It hasn’t started.”
“Oh, that’s right. You just woke up.”
“How was yours?”
“Eh.”
“Eh?” he asked, slightly amused.
“I talked to Victor today. Told him I’m getting cold feet about killing my father.”
He turned quiet.
“You were right… He’s playing me.”
“Did he say that?”
“No, but I could tell. The second I expressed my doubt, he encouraged me to drop the vendetta. It’s exactly what he wants. For my father and me to get along, for me to take him back, for us to have the life we had seven years ago.”
“I almost feel bad for him. Almost.”
I didn’t feel bad for him at all. He lied to me, so I didn’t feel any remorse for leading him on. Why did he want a woman he had to manipulate to get in the first place? It didn’t make any sense. “He should be angry for what my father did, but he doesn’t care…he’s never cared.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“I’m disappointed in myself for thinking I could trust him.”