Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 162003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 810(@200wpm)___ 648(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 810(@200wpm)___ 648(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
We had an odd relationship, I’d be the first to admit it. Two vacant souls in a desolate sink hole. He respected me. At least I had that going for me. He didn’t want to disappoint the man who’d pulled him from the brink of self-destruction. But he was also hiding things from me. What did I tell you about the size of his balls?
Anticipation was as powerful a motivator as fear, in my humble opinion. Hm. I take that back. Humble, I was not. I was an arrogant fuck who only wanted one goddamn thing in this world, and right now the man in front of me was an obstacle to that, no matter how righteous his intentions.
“You see, Mick…” I drew out the words, keeping my voice tight and in control, so he knew I was being completely rational. “The thing is, I don’t like to blow my own horn. But I excelled in math. Still do, in fact. It comes easily to me. Some people, not so much. It’s a gift.”
Mick shifted in his chair and arched a brow at me. “Not quite sure what you’re getting at boss.”
“What I’m getting at is that the shit you’re peddling me doesn’t add up, your story has more holes than Swiss cheese, and your smoke and mirrors are better left to the kiddies.”
His face blanched, and he had the decency to look the slightest bit remorseful.
“I know she’s a beautiful girl.” I set down the paperweight and leaned forward on my elbows. “Sweet. Funny. Charming as hell.”
Mick smirked but wisely chose not to respond.
“She’s mine.”
There was no argument about that, and I waited for Mick’s reaction. I doubted the big lug had actually developed feelings for her. But there was certainly something amiss, and it was time to dispense with the monkey business.
“I’m fully aware of that, sir,” he assured me.
His eyes crinkled in amusement and it relieved me to know that wasn’t going to be an issue. Out of a handful of people I trusted, Mick made the top of the list. Even smaller was the list of those- apart from myself- I deemed capable of protecting Brighton. That score consisted of one, and he was it. He excelled at what he did, but having fuzzy warmth for my girl wasn’t going to fly.
“So it’s the guilt, then,” I remarked.
Mick looked away, and bingo! We had a winner.
“She wasn’t supposed to be in the car that night,” he mumbled.
“You think I’m not blatantly aware of that by now?” I snapped.
“I know you are, boss.” He glanced at me with concern. I hated that look. Except on Brighton. My little lotus flower could worry her pretty face over me all day long. In fact, a dose of that would be well received right about now. Much better than her cavalier indifference to the useless bag of bones I was becoming.
I was a little bit of a masochist myself as evidenced by my next question. “You think I should give her up?”
Mick blinked at me and sawed his teeth over his bottom lip before answering. “I know you love her, boss. But don’t you think enough damage has been done?”
“You know what I think?” I shot laser beams into his murky brown eyes. “I think I’m not paying you to have a fucking opinion.”
Mick grunted in response. So frigging typical.
“I need you on her at all times,” I barked out. “I need to know she’s safe if nothing else. And if I find out you’re withholding her address from me on purpose…”
My email pinged. There were few matters worthy of disrupting this conversation with my old buddy, old pal. The exception, of course, was the private investigator in Chicago. In this case, no news would’ve been good news.
Mick forgotten, I opened it up without delay. I hated being right. Photos of Brayden occupied my screen and exacerbated my animosity towards my love’s darker half. While I signed over monthly checks to keep the twins alive, he’d inflamed old wounds by getting reacquainted with Frankie’s old neighborhood.
Christ.
He was even dumber than I gave him credit for, and this was about to complicate the shit out of everything I thought I’d buried.
I hadn’t a clue when I made a deal with the devil six years ago it’d come back to haunt me like this. Alfredo had been paid enough to wash his hands of the matter until a more suitable time. Out of sight, out of mind. But not when Brayden was parading himself all over Frankie’s old stomping grounds with a giant red target on his back. The two paths would collide, sooner or later.
Alfredo would put a bullet in his head without a second thought, money be damned. And then what? Would they try to come for Brighton too?
“We’ll pick this up later, Mick.”