Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 79749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Maybe it's pure paranoia that someone is watching me rather than a sixth sense. Maybe systematic abuse from Damien, and not knowing when he's going to pop up and hit me, has finally culminated in my sanity starting to slip.
I squint my eyes as I look out into the distance, wondering what in the tree line made the birds fly away, but I see nothing.
"Mrs. Gaines?"
I turn to face Samuel, wondering how he explained the cut on his forehead, that now has a bandage covering it, from his wound last week. I know Luke had to have subdued him in order to pull up in the alleyway, and it shows just how different Luke is from Damien. If Damien wanted someone out of the way, he'd probably put a bullet in their head.
But that isn't right either because he didn't kill Luke as he has bragged about doing for years. It's a lie he told to my father's face while I was present. That was one of the brutal things about my father. He never laid a hand on me, but emotionally, he's responsible for so much damage he might as well have struck at me with his fists.
"Yes, sorry," I finally manage.
"You'll be late for your appointment," he says. "Do you want to cancel?"
I shake my head, knowing that not going will raise too many questions. I know Damien keeps a close eye on what I'm doing, especially when it involves me leaving the house. He knows I won't run because of Eli, but he also caught me trying to locate my son. The man never trusted me fully, but I know he trusts me even less now.
"I'm ready," I tell Samuel, following him from the living room when he turns to head out to the car.
The drive is as uneventful as it was last week, but that doesn't keep my head from being on a swivel as I look at all the cars and every person on the sidewalk when we get into town. I don't see Luke. There's nothing suspicious, but, honestly, what do I know about evaluating my surroundings? I've been protected my entire life. I've never had to duck down or run from someone trying to hurt me, although the threat has always been there. I've never faced a barrage of bullets from someone wanting to get revenge on my father or my husband.
Roxanne greets me like normal when I enter through the back, but her smile doesn't reach her eyes. There's no love lost between us. Despite weekly appointments for years, I'm not friends with this woman. Friends have never been an option. They're a weakness. Caring for people outside of the family isn't allowed. Anyone who tries to get close will only use you.
I wish I could say that the lesson taught by my father at an early age wasn't true, but even Luke only got close to me as an undercover federal agent so he could take down my father and the organization. Every day since he told me who he was, I have wished that he had been successful. It's impossible to picture what a life without the criminal element would look like, but it can't be any worse than the one I'm living now.
My appointment goes like clockwork, this one a little longer than last week because I'm due for a haircut and a new set of nails.
When I lift up on the tips of my toes before opening the back door, I breathe a sigh of relief at the sight of the sedan parked exactly where it's supposed to be, but the fear of what could happen before I'm safely inside the car with Samuel makes me rush to the vehicle and jump inside.
I look up as the car pulls away after clicking my seatbelt into place and meet dark green eyes so familiar I don't realize I memorized them until now.
"Hey, Peach."
My heart races as every emotion in the book hits me right in the chest. I'm ecstatic, livid, so incredibly happy, but also enraged and terrified.
"What the fuck are you doing?" I growl as he pulls the car out of the alleyway and heads left instead of right as we've always done when Samuel is driving.
The routine is to the salon and straight back home. I have a thirty-minute window to get there before Damien will suspect something is wrong, and that's not a whole lot of wiggle room to be fucking with.
Tears streak down my face, but I know better than to try and jump from the car, even though a part of my head is telling me that might be the only option.
"You have to let me go," I demand.
Maybe it won't be so bad if he just deserts the car and leaves me to find my own way home. Damien could possibly consider the blip an issue he needs to deal with through Samuel and not me, but the further he drives in the opposite direction of where I'm supposed to be heading, the harder my hands tremble.