Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
“He’s my son,” I tell her. “There’s nothing else to consider, Molly. They’re going to hurt my child. I’ve failed him enough. I can’t let this happen. I won’t. I’m going.”
She steps forward, staring up at me, her eyes glistening. “Please.”
I turn away. If I don’t, there’s a chance the pain in her expression will weaken me. I’ll let her persuade me that it’s better if I don’t go, and then, when Ryan turns up dead, I’ll go insane with guilt. When we have kids, Molly, I’d do the same for them. Maybe I’d say that if Ethan wasn’t here.
“I’m going to gather my buddies,” Ethan says, standing. “It’s better if I go in person. I can make sure they’re alone. If the wrong people hear…”
He doesn’t have to say it. Ryan will be dead.
“Okay, thank you.” Walking around the other side of the table, purposefully avoiding Molly, I offer my hand. “You’re a good man.”
“Your gym saved my life,” Ethan says, shaking my hand vigorously. “It’s only right I return the favor.”
I walk Ethan to the door, then return to the living room to find Molly with her face buried in her hands. She’s crying softly, breaking my damn heart. She doesn’t deserve any of this. I sit beside her and wrap my arm around her shoulder, but she breaks my heart again, moving away from me.
Sitting back, I place my hands in my lap, looking at the clock. Not long now.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Molly
Crying feels so useless. I try to stop myself several times. That’s why I moved away from Duke when he put his arm around me. It reminded me that, soon, I might never see him again. I’ll never feel his warmth. I’ll never see his smirk or the hungry glint in his eyes.
Finally, I get myself under control. Without saying anything and without looking at him, I stand and walk to the bathroom. My entire face is red from crying. My eyes are bloodshot. I splash myself with cold water and then return to the living room. Duke is still sitting on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees. He looks up at me, his mouth pitched into a tight frown. “Come here, Molly.”
His tone is different than usual, more commanding. I walk over to him. He reaches up and pulls me firmly into his lap. I splay my legs to one side and wrap my arms around him, wishing I could hold him here forever. We haven’t even been on a proper date unless I count the gym, but the idea of losing him feels like losing somebody I’ve known and loved my whole life.
“I think we should make the next few hours as special as we can,” he says softly, kissing my cheek. “Whatever’s going to happen later, I’ll need energy. Why don’t I cook us up some steaks?”
I can hear the hope in his voice. For a little while, he wants to forget. I know that when the time comes, he’ll be completely focused, ready to do whatever it takes to rescue his child. If Ryan were our son, which is a weird thought, I’d want him to do the same.
“Okay, Duke,” I say.
He kisses my cheek again, getting closer to my lips. I’m trying to keep my face turned away. Then I won’t have to think about what I’m losing, but it’s too hard to resist him.
We kiss deeply, passionately, and differently than we have yet. There’s an undertone of lust. I think there always will be with us, but there’s something else here, too. It’s more like comfort, more like belonging. We slow the kiss down, and instead of grabbing my hips with his usual urgency, he holds me softly.
“So… I’ve got an important question for you.” He tries to smile, but I can see the tension. He’s trying, so I try, too.
“Hmm, yeah?”
“How do you like your steak?”
We sit in the dining room together. Duke is wearing a shirt with a couple of buttons undone as if to make this feel more date-like. The only sign that something is wrong is the cell phone sitting on the table, and he glances at the window every so often as if expecting Ethan to arrive any second.
“Bloody enough for you?” Duke says, attempting to smile.
I return the attempt. If I can put everything else in a box deep in my mind, maybe I can enjoy this for what it is—the date I desperately wanted the first time I saw a photo of this man.
“I’m not that much of an animal,” I say, grinning as I cut into the steak. “Yours is basically uncooked.”
He smirks. Sure, there’s still some darkness in his eyes. There’s some darkness in my voice, too, but the fact we’re both trying means something. We’re looking for light in the dark. “That’s because I am that much of an animal,” he counters, then laughs and suddenly stops his laughter.