Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 62266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
"You good?" War asks. I nod, watching Cosima disappear with Tova. "The parents will be here tonight."
"And why didn't you give me that heads-up?" I told War we were coming back today. Cosima was past needing to have a checkup with a doctor about the pregnancy, and I wanted that to happen here.
"I knew you wouldn't come; you'd hold off."
"You really wanted us here that badly?"
"Tova. She's been missing Cosima."
"Is she still pissed at me?"
“You brought Cosima back, so I’m sure she’s over it now.” I don’t want to come between her and her friends unless I don’t have a choice.
I know high school wasn’t great for Cosima, and it’s partly why she’d gone to Switzerland to begin with. It made things easier, but the friends she did make there weren’t the kind you could pull into your life without worrying about what you might subject them to. Cosima wouldn’t want to do that.
That’s why Marks and Tova work well. I see how she lights up around them. At her core, Cosima is a girly girl. She wants to be as thick as thieves with her girlfriends. She thrives around people.
“What’s the party for?” I ask as a delivery person walks by with a case of wine, followed by someone with their hands full of flowers.
“I’m wrapping up a few deals, and Dad keeps pushing for us to host.”
“You don’t want to?”
War shrugs.
“How many people?”
“Roughly ten.”
“Send me the list.”
“I will, but it’s not anyone who hasn’t been here before.” I still want to vet them. People and things change on a dime. Anyone that's going to be hanging in our family home around my pregnant wife is going to be triple-checked. The stakes are even higher now.
"All right, I'm going to shower and check on a few things."
"We need to talk, so don't take off on me."
"Is it about Cosima?" My hackles rise. If it's about her, I want to talk about it now.
"No."
"Does Ronan need to be there?"
"I'd prefer it."
"Is he coming tonight?" I haven't talked to him in a few weeks.
That's unusual for us; although Ronan isn't particularly talkative, I assumed he was busy given how everything unfolded a couple of months ago. He did have to wrap up the whole dead cop situation, so I’m sure he's been busy. Ronan prefers to handle things, well, with his bare hands. We often get sent in when you need information pulled out of someone or to do a cleanup.
"Not sure; he's been sticking to the city and overseeing the new warehouses we acquired."
"Acquired." I bark a laugh. If that's what he wants to call it. It's not difficult to do that if the owner is now dead. Convenient nonetheless.
It also worked in our favor that I was able to backtrack things to make it appear these dealings had been happening before both the father and son dropped dead. I mean, the father dropped dead, and the son is missing. He'll never be found. The only person who knows where that body might be is Ronan.
I'm sure he has a nice graveyard out there.
“I’ll send you the list and a few other things I need you to handle personally with a few of our accounts.”
“You want to move things around?”
“That’s the plan. Want everything to appear—”
“Legal,” I fill in, War acting as though the word has a bitter taste to it. Legal or not legal, I could give a shit either way, but if War wants us to appear more like the Joneses, so be it.
Actually, the more I think about it, the more it has its appeal. There is a bigger picture I need to be considering, and that has everything to do with my family, one that is growing.
“Yes, legal.”
“Got it.” I drop my hand down on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze.
“I’m glad you’re home.” I nod in agreement. “And not only because it’s a convenience for work.”
“You going soft on me, War?” I tease.
“My wife would say I’m never soft.”
I chuckle. Glad I’m not the only one with that problem. “Did you actually crack a joke?” It’s not a side of him I’m used to seeing.
"Yes," War says, shifting his attention to where the girls disappeared. "And she didn't even get to hear it. My little mouse enjoys it when I make one occasionally."
"All right, man. Send me the list, and I'll send you a list of jokes to try out on your wife," I tell him before heading up to my room to shower. I make it a quick one, firing up my computer systems when I exit the bathroom.
I get dressed before dropping down into the chair at my desk, pulling up the list. As soon as I see the guests that are on it, I clench my teeth.
How I'm going to get through tonight without murdering anyone, I have no fucking clue.