Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
“They died, and then I had no one. I suppose I don’t like digging into the past.” Look where it got me in Boston when I tried to pay my respects. Even though I don’t say it out loud, I think Dutton understands as he studies me.
“Now you have Bentley.”
I turn to face him with a smile. “Yes, now I have Bentley.”
Dutton clears his throat.
“Who is his father, Posie?” I’m surprised he’s asking again.
“Why do you care so much?”
I’m confident giving him the name wouldn’t be a good thing like it’ll manifest Bobbi onto my doorstep the very next day. There’s a reason why I left him off Bentley’s birth certificate.
“Because I saw how frightened you were when you spoke to Striker. I can protect you both.” He sounds so earnest.
I swallow, a tendril of emotion sapping the fight out of me how I want to lean into this man. How I want to believe what he’s saying. And the terrifying thing is that I do believe him. But when will the novelty of all of this end for him? I’ve fought hard to get Bentley and me here, and I want it to be enough. I want to have done enough to get us far away from that life. Even if I am scared of his father, I don’t want to admit that to anyone. I want to push past that version of me.
“We don’t need protection,” I say, feeling that sense of fear closing in because if Dutton thinks Bobbi might come looking for us, then he most likely will.
“I would kill him for you.” He says it without flinching. And this isn’t the first time he’s offered.
I sigh, looking at the killer beside me again. How do I feel so safe beside this man who can so easily dispose of anyone?
With a sense of defeat, I admit, “I don’t want to take away Bentley’s choice to know his father someday if that’s what he wants.” His eyebrows furrow in confusion because how could he understand? He doesn’t have a child to protect, and he doesn’t know what it’s like to lose a parent.
“I always promised myself that when Bentley was old enough, if he wanted to know about his father, I’d tell him. If he wanted to find him, I’d let him. I don’t want to be the reason why he can’t see him. And I know the moment I give you his name, you’ll take both Bentley’s and my choice away.”
“He doesn’t seem like much of a father to me if he has nothing to do with his son,” Dutton states. I look over to Dawson and Bentley as they continue to bounce and laugh.
“I don’t entirely disagree with you. But, please. Going after Bobbi will only cause more bloodshed.”
“Bobbi Harley?” Dutton asks, and I realize my mistake.
“Please don’t do anything, Dutton. Promise me.”
“What if Bentley isn’t safe with him around?” he presses.
“Then I’ll kill him myself. It’s my fight, not yours,” I say, trying to fill myself with all the bravado I can. Because deep down, I know I’m still that scared little girl. I wasn’t raised as a fighter, and although I have a fiery temper, I’m half the size of most men. But if I had to fight for my son’s safety, I’d take down a whole army before I let them touch him.
“Let me know when you need me, Mostriciattola. It’s okay to ask for help.”
It goes without saying that Dutton has already helped us more than he knows.
“What does that word mean?” I ask.
“Mostriciattola?” he repeats as he begins to remove his shoes. I follow his lead and do the same. He takes off his suit jacket, and when he stands and offers me his hand, he says, “It means ‘little monster.’”
My eyes widen. “That’s what you’ve been calling me this whole time? Why can’t it be something sweet?!” I demand.
He chuckles, and when his father looks in our direction, I still place my hand in Dutton’s as he helps me up from the chair.
“You’ve destroyed my office more than once. Do you think a sweet woman would do that?”
I hmph at him, walking ahead of him to the inflatable castle. “You’re not interested in sweet, Mr. Taylor.”
“No. The only sweet thing I like is between your legs.”
Heat rises up my neck as we stop outside the bouncy house. I stare at Dutton for a moment before turning away and crawling inside.
Bentley screams with joy when we join them, and Dawson declares he is taking a water break, laughing as he leaves. Bentley starts bouncing around Dutton, who pretends to chase after him. For a moment, I see the man he truly is—the cold-hearted man who says he admires his father and is good with children. He gives himself too little credit.