Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
The words spilling from my mouth broke my heart as much as they did JR’s, but the nicks were worth it when the judge agreed with my concerns. He deemed JR more at risk of himself than fleeing the country, and as such, granted him bail at the cost of five million dollars.
The deed of the cabin more than covered the bond. If it hadn’t, Isaac would have stepped in. He’s been seeking a way to redeem himself since the day they fought.
“He won’t hurt me, Isaac,” I whisper, confident that is where his worry stems from. “He isn’t like them.” Izzy is a law enforcement officer, but when I stray my eyes to the men currently tearing the cabin apart, the anger that blazes through Isaac’s eyes would have you believing otherwise. He doesn’t trust them any more than JR does. “I trust him.”
Although Isaac’s tight expression softens during my confession, worry is still prominent in his tone. “You don’t know him.”
“And you didn’t know Izzy when you flew me to the other side of the country to keep an eye on her sister you were bidding on.” His love for Callie shines brightly in his eyes, making them appear lighter gray than steel gray. “I could have told you you were crazy—”
“You did tell me I was crazy.”
I continue talking as if he never interrupted me. “But the instant my eyes landed on that little girl, I knew I would have regretted my words every single day for the rest of my life if you had listened to me.” I sling my eyes to the blacked-out SUV JR is detained in. “And I will for him as well. I have to help him, Isaac. It isn’t a maybe or a should. I must do it.”
“Then let—”
“No,” I interrupt, aware of his demands before he can voice them. “Izzy needs you. Your family needs you.” His ego takes a hit when I mutter, “I don’t,” but he takes it on the chin like a man because, despite his wish to protect everyone in his realm, the needs of his wife and children will always come first. “Go be with your family.”
When Isaac drifts his eyes to Regan, hopeful she will back up his campaign, he gets far less than he bargained for. “I agree with Jae. You have everyone on this. You don’t need to be here as well.” After scooting off the armchair Alex placed her backside onto when she threatened to serve the parole officers papers on the spot for the mistreatment of her client in her presence, she advises, “Alex and I will stay until Hawke and the guys arrive, and Hunter wired this place up so well, I’m feeling a little violated.”
I don’t care if she brings out her Texas twang, she can’t pull off the innocent look, and I’m not the only one noticing. With an arched brow and a smirk spread across his smug face, Isaac queries, “Frosting tins?”
Regan pouts. “Left on the kitchen counter as requested.” I grin when she pokes her tongue out at Isaac before muttering, “Party pooper.” My smile doubles when she adds, “Along with my bag of tricks. Once Alex is off assignment, it will be vanilla frosting all the way home.”
I’m lost as to what she means, but Isaac looks a little green around the gills. Not enough to change his constant stern expression but enough to convince Regan and me that he’s finally giving in.
“Call me if anything changes. I want to be the first to know.” When Regan crosses her heart and hopes to die, Isaac places on his winter coat before shifting on his feet to face me. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to. The remorse in his eyes expresses everything he wants me to know, and only a portion of it is for me. The rest he wants me to express to JR on his behalf.
“I’ll take good care of him.”
“Oh, I bet she will,” Regan giggles out with a waggle of her brows.
As she walks Isaac to the door, I shift my focus to the lead parole officer. “Are we good?”
He has arrogance by the bucketloads, but his attitude simmers a little when Alex butts shoulders with me to hear his reply. “Yes. Everything is good to go.”
After signaling for his crew to pack up, he marches out the door Isaac just exited.
He’s barely slid behind the steering wheel of a dark blue sedan when Alex mutters under his breath, “Glory chasers are the worst.” He slumps into an armchair, kicks his feet up onto a coffee table, then drags a hand across his scruffy beard. “They do none of the work but expect all the glory.” He nudges his head to JR being chauffeured out of the back of the SUV the parole officer’s car is parked behind. “If he’s convicted, Flynn Bob, over there, will claim he found the evidence.”