Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104403 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104403 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
“No.” She shook her head. “I couldn’t have that on my conscience. He came close. Jason was in bad shape when Saint got through with him, but I… I couldn’t have lived with the guilt of him killing someone because of me.”
“This is one of the main reasons I don’t want you to tangle up with my men. It fucks with their heads.”
“There’s no tangling.” At least at the time, there hadn’t been tangling. “I barely know him. He’s someone I’ve seen a handful of times over the years. And I was supposed to be okay with him killing someone on my behalf? Killing someone for some woman who might as well be a stranger?”
“You’re his fucking president’s daughter, Beth. It’s his job, his club duty to keep you safe.” His thunderous expression matched the rise in volume as he shouted.
“And he did,” she yelled right back. “I’m the one who begged him to stop. I’m the one who fucked up,” she said, slapping her own chest. “I stayed with a piece of shit who hurt me. The mistakes were mine. I’m so fucking ashamed of it. How could I live with myself if one of your men had to take a life because of my fuckup?” The sob she’d been trying to suppress burst forward.
Copper’s fury turned to horror one second before he hauled her to him, wrapping his arms around her in a crushing bear hug. “Christ, Beth, you didn’t fuck up. None of this is your fault.”
Everything she’d held in over the past few weeks, hell, the last year, burst from her in a torrent of hot tears that drenched her father’s shirt. In the safety and comfort of his arms, she wept for long minutes until there couldn’t have been a drop of liquid left in her body. All the while, he rocked her back and forth, murmuring about how she hadn’t done anything wrong and had nothing to feel bad about.
Eventually, she calmed. Copper rubbed her back as he rested his furred chin on her head. “Better?”
She let out a weak laugh. “Yeah,” she said as she pulled out of his embrace. “Sorry about that,” she said with a wince as she wiped his tear-soaked shirt as though she could brush away the wetness.
“Not the first time you’ve sobbed all over me.”
“Yeah, guess that’s what you get for being a girl-dad.”
He chuckled, then grew serious. “Listen to me, Beth,” he said, holding her shoulders so she had no choice but to face him. “There is only one person to blame here, and that’s the ball-barnacle who pretends he’s a man.”
Her lips twitched. “Ball-barnacle?”
But Copper wasn’t in the mood to laugh. “Yes. He’s a fucking two-pump tragedy and not worth the paper I wipe my ass with. No one can call themselves a man if they do not treat their woman like a fucking queen.”
“I know.” She lowered her eyes, staring at the tear spot on his olive T-shirt. “I know that. I’ve seen it my whole life. I’ve seen nothing but the best examples of relationships. It’s why I’m so ashamed of staying so long.”
“Beth…” He lifted her chin. “You know our sister chapter runs a women’s shelter down in Florida. Hell, you’ve been there.”
“Yes.”
“Do you think any of those women should be ashamed of the situations they’ve found themselves in? Of how long they stayed with someone who abused them?”
“No, of course not. I’d never think that. There’s so much nuance, manipulation, and fear. The only feeling I have toward them is admiration for leaving, no matter how long it took.”
“So why can’t you show yourself the same grace and understanding?”
Good question. Why couldn’t she?
“Um… I think it’s almost easier to blame myself than feel like a victim. That’s fucked up, right?”
He tilted his head, studying her. “Well, how about you start thinking of yourself as a survivor instead? Surviving isn’t a weakness. It’s proof you’ve been tested, hurt, and still refused to disappear.”
Surviving meant strength. It meant courage. It meant clawing her way out of the dark, even when life tried to swallow her whole. It meant breathing through the pain, choosing to stand when it would have been easier to stay down.
She swallowed a lump in her throat, refusing to cry again. “Yeah. I think I can do that.”
“Good.” He released her shoulders and grabbed his mug again. “Thank you for telling me, Beth. And thank you for coming home.”
“Please don’t lose your shit on Saint. He did what you asked. He rescued me, protected me, and brought me home.”
Copper pressed his lips together until they flattened into an unimpressed line. “He also withheld information.”
“Because I begged him to. He also told me he wouldn’t flat-out lie. That if you asked him straight, he’d have no choice but to tell you. Please.”
“I can’t let it slide, Beth.”