Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 32375 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 162(@200wpm)___ 130(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32375 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 162(@200wpm)___ 130(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
“Forget it, Diego. You’re not serious about her if—”
“My father is in the ICU, Jonah. I can’t leave my family right now. If something happens and I’m in another country…”
“Fuck, man. I’m so sorry.”
“That’s why I need your help. I can’t be here and not know where she is, that she’s okay, safe, healthy.” It seemed ludicrous, but I even wanted to know what she was eating to make sure she was staying healthy for our baby. “I’ll lose my mind and be no good to anyone.”
“I’ll check on her for you,” he said, trying to satisfy me with the small gesture.
Not fucking happening. “I need to see her, Jonah. And you know what the fuck I mean. You remember telling me about the cameras you keep everywhere so you can keep track of your wife when you were on your fifth beer at that poker game three years ago?”
No response.
“Thatcher didn’t exactly hide his obsession with his wife any better.”
Jonah sighed. “I want to help you, Diego. But Thatcher is one of my closest friends. He’s like a fucking brother. I can’t just give you an all-access pass to his baby girl.”
I was out of options. I didn’t have anything to blackmail him with, begging and pleading wasn’t working, even comparing the situation with his wife...I was screwed.
Unless… There was one more arrow in my quiver, hiding at the bottom where I hadn’t seen it. “She’s pregnant.” It was only partially a lie since the possibility did exist.
“For the love of...Don’t ever tell Thatcher you knocked up his little girl before you’ve even told him you’re together. Actually, don’t tell him at all. Tell Imogene.”
“Will you help me?”
He groaned, and I heard what sounded like his fist hitting the desk. “Yes. I’m probably signing my own damn death warrant, but I understand where you're coming from. Give me a couple of days to make it happen.”
I started to argue, but he shouted so loud I had to pull the phone away from my ear. “TWO FUCKING DAYS, SANCHEZ. And you’ll still owe me until the end of time.”
“Two days,” I agreed through clenched teeth.
7
Diego
I pulled my phone from my pocket and kicked my feet up onto the arm of the sofa before I laid back with a pillow under my head. It was nearly as soft as a concrete slab, but it was all I had at the moment. My father had finally been moved out of the ICU and into a private room. It had taken almost four weeks because he’d developed an infection. We’d nearly lost him, and as much as I loved my sisters, they were no help. They were more emotional than my mother, and she coddled them.
My mother was asleep in the bed next to him, and my sisters and brother had gone home to sleep and hadn’t returned yet. It was still early, and I was glad to have the privacy. Every morning and every night, I found a place to be alone with my girl. Not that I didn’t keep an eye on her throughout the day, but at these times, I gave myself permission to forget about everyone and everything except her.
There was no time difference between New York and the Dominican Republic, so I had easily synched our schedules. Fortune was in my favor when it turned out that Allison and Charlie (not a blood relative, but still a cousin) had moved into a townhouse owned by her parents. It would have been a fuck of a lot harder to get access to her if she’d still been living under Thatcher’s roof.
I’d considered calling her and warning her that as soon as my father was on the mend, I was coming for her. But I decided against it because I’d have an easier time watching her, and then finding her, if she went about her normal routine.
Allison’s alarm went off at seven, just as it did every weekday, and she went up onto one elbow so she could grab her phone from the desk next to her bed and silence it. Phone in hand, she flopped back down onto the mattress and held it to her chest as she closed her eyes again. I didn’t like the dark circles around her eyes. She’d gone to bed early the night before, so she shouldn’t look as though she’d barely slept. A few minutes later, she opened her eyes again and yawned as she began to fiddle with her phone.
Jonah was right. I owed him the equivalent to my firstborn. I dug a second phone out of my back pocket and unlocked it before tapping on the only app. After logging in, the screen changed, and I was now looking at the real-time contents of another phone. Allison had opened Facebook and was scrolling through her feed.