Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 78438 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78438 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
She wiggles around on the mattress, pulling the blanket down, then immediately curls up and shivers. Smiling, I pull the blanket back over her body, and I’m rewarded with a soft moan of appreciation. Leaning down, I place a gentle kiss on her shoulder before heading back downstairs.
“You found her?” James questions, as I take a seat in the living room. I’m not ready to go and crawl into bed next to her. It would just make me want to fuck her into submission over and over again.
No matter how pissed she was, running from me was stupid, so fucking stupid.
“Yeah, I did,” I mumble, running my hands through my hair. “Well, technically, Eli did.” I’m exhausted. The truth is I’m not used to all this, all I ever had to protect was myself. Having to think about more than just myself—well, it’s fucking exhausting.
“I’m assuming from the look on your face it wasn’t somewhere you expected to find her?” What’s with all the questions?
Arching an eyebrow, I ask, “What do you mean?”
“You just look slightly amused and slightly pissed.”
“Well, your daughter is a spitfire. The last thing I expected her to be doing was getting drunk and dancing out on the crowded dance floor.” I expel a deep breath.
He lets out a deep, almost contagious laugh—contagious if I had something to laugh about.
“Must’ve gotten that from her mother. She was definitely a get drunk and take off her clothes kind of gal, I remember the one time—”
“No. No. I don’t want to hear about it.” I stop him with my hands, really not wanting to hear about how Amara came into this world.
“Still, the woman was feisty as hell. Clearly, Amara got that from her mother,” he comments, smiling at me, his eyes glazing over. I know that look well—he’s scouring his mind for the one memory he’s most fond of. I do it, too. Every time I think of my mother.
“I’m sure she did.” I was never given the chance to meet her mother. Had I met her, would things have been different? I think so.
“You know, you and Amara aren’t that far off from the same kind of people. She’s lost just as much as you have. Maybe you guys can find the happiness missing in your lives through one another. I love her to death, but I don’t think Jared and I loving her will be enough to hold her together…” James talks as if he has experience with this whole ordeal. I’m not sure I even want to ask.
“Well, it can’t just be me,” I say without thinking. There’s no way, after everything that has happened, I would be the person to hold her to the earth.
“Give yourself more credit, son. We all make mistakes and have a long past of shit always creeping up on us. You made choices and did things because you had to. Killing John wasn’t easy on you, but losing your mother wasn’t either. You have lost your whole family to death.”
This man knows more about me than I give him credit for, and suddenly, I feel something I rarely do—fear. Fear of the unexpected—of the future, and for Amara.
“You seem to know a lot about my family,” I blow out an uneasy breath. “More than I was aware of.”
Smiling, he says, “Yeah, you know I used to work for your father. Nothing serious. I never had to bury any bodies. He wasn’t just my boss though; he was my friend as well. If he were alive now, he would be very proud of you, Lorenzo.”
“Proud?” I stumble over the word. That single word isn’t something my father would’ve ever said. Even at the ripe age of five, I remember him being hard on me. Screaming and pushing me. A five-fucking-year-old kid… Like I knew better.
“Yes, proud, he would’ve loved the young man you hav—”
“That I’ve become? The person he wanted me to be?” I’m angry, and as the air filters into my lungs, I still feel as if I’m not getting enough of it.
“Well, yes, in a way…” All I can do is stare at him, shaking my head. I’m overwhelmed with the urgency to slaughter someone or something. Anger isn’t something I know how to handle well. Lately, I’m never in control, which makes my life harder.
“This is the man my father would’ve wanted me to be, I’m sure…” I laugh.
“All I meant is he would be proud—”
“Proud of what?” I bite out.
“You. The man you have become. I know your father wasn’t a good man, but he loved your mom. Almost the same as you love Amara. He never looked at that love as a weakness, he valued it above all. Something not many men in his position would. He would have been proud of you embracing the love you have with Amara.” Dazed and confused by his admission, I sit there slightly shocked.