Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 44963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Focus, Luke. Dammit.
“I won’t be long,” Andrew says, walking into his bedroom.
Violet and I stand out here alone. She looks up at me with that spark in her eyes. I imagine a son or a daughter with the same spark.
It doesn’t matter that she’s afraid, biting down to bury her fear. She’s still got that fire. Her cheeks are more flushed than they were before as we stare at each other, standing close and saying nothing. It would feel natural to lean in and press my lips against hers.
“Why are you helping us?” she whispers.
“I told you—”
“Yeah, sometimes a man has to do the right thing. But that’s one hell of a one-eighty when they sent you here to kill us.”
“Not you,” I growl, the thought causing a riot inside of me.
I’d tear the whole seedy underworld to shreds before I hurt you… or let anybody else touch you.
I can’t say this, can’t spring this on her. It makes matters more complicated by Andrew being in the next room.
Andrew.
Right.
“Oh, just my dad, then?” she says, shaking her head. “I guess I should be thankful. You’ve, what, had a change of heart?”
“It happens,” I grunt.
“You have to have a heart to be able to change it.”
“What are you, a poet?”
Her smile twitches. It’s like she can’t help it, and then she gets pissed at herself, forcing the smile away. The display caresses my obsession. I want to study every change in her expression, always.
Andrew emerges, dressed in simple pants and a shirt, holding a suitcase. “I’m ready.”
I gesture for them to walk down the stairs ahead of me. Even if I’m fairly certain they won’t try anything, instincts rule me, and there’s no way I’m giving them the chance to attack me from behind.
This gives me a new problem.
Violet walks ahead of me. I’m not sure if she’s aware of shifting her hips from side to side, highlighting their width, their—say it, a primal voice howls—their perfection for childbirth.
No. One step at a time. There’s too much standing between us.
I can’t quiet the carnal focus as I study her plump ass in her jeans, my hands shuddering as I think about massaging them, spending lots of time pushing them together and caressing them as she moans in her sassy way.
“We’re taking my car,” I snap when Andrew moves toward his in the driveway.
I expect some argument here, but it’s clear he understands the severity of his situation. He nods and follows me across the street. After they’ve put their suitcases in the back, I climb into the driver’s seat. They sit on the rear seats together, Violet clutching onto her legs, digging her nails in as if she wants to tempt my savage gaze with the touch.
As I start the engine, I know this is the end of my old life. The end of the hired killer. What comes next?
Warmth, happiness, impossibility with my Violet? Or more death?
Violet and Andrew sit quietly in the back as I drive us toward the closest bridge that will take us out of the city. My mind turns toward safe houses. I’ve got a few of them dotted all over the country, just in case I ever need to get away.
When I set them up, I never thought it would be to protect my woman and her father. There’s that thought again. My woman.
My cellphone rings when I reach the bridge. It’s Massimo.
“Where are you going, Luke?” he snaps.
His question gives me pause. He shouldn’t have any clue where I am.
I pull up at the side of the road, no traffic at this time of night, nobody out in this dark world but us. There must be a tracker on the car.
“Where do you think?” I snap. “I’m getting rid of the body.”
“I thought you were going to leave it there. Make it look like he died in his sleep.”
I keep the phone off speaker. Humanity tugs at my heart, birthed from Violet, from her mere presence. I find myself wanting to be better, wanting to prove to her I can live a different life. There are aspects of me she can draw out, the father, the husband…
There I go again. Rushing ahead.
“Luke?”
“Things don’t always go according to plan.”
“So, if I send a couple of guys over there, we’ll find a bloody scene, will we?”
“No, it wasn’t messy.”
Violet lets out a shudder from the back seat, meeting my eyes in the rearview. Her expression is complicated and difficult to read. I wonder if she could ever want me, twice her age, existing in the underbelly of society, whereas she stands in the light.
“Signs of a struggle?” Massimo says. “Otherwise, you would’ve stuck to the original plan.”
“Yeah,” I say, backed into a corner. “I don’t appreciate the tracker. I’ve never given you a reason to keep tabs on me.”