Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56591 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56591 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
I walk right to the edge of the water, trembling. My father ran down a family of three, killed the wife and child, then refused to face justice. Worse, when the husband showed up years later, he didn’t even recognize him. Which means he ran from the crash before he had a chance to get a look at him, then ignored his complaints after.
“Do you need me to stay?” Marco says from behind me.
“No,” I whisper. Louder: “No.”
I never claimed to be perfect, my father whispers. Remember that time I threw the cup at the wall. I always said I wasn’t aiming it at your mother. But that was only a justification. I was trying to hurt her.
I blink, the water shifting, blurry. Tears? Am I seriously going to cry?
I wipe my face, disgusted with myself. I hated Sebastian for so many years, and now… but no, he still went too far. He still drove my mother to an early grave.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. It’s Izzy.
Izzy: I know you don’t want to hear from me, but I’ve spent the last five days driving around Uncle Aaron’s properties and taking photos. No one suspects a woman on her own. Anyway, I’ve got photo and video evidence of multiple drug deals at properties he owns, plus an assault and robbery. There’s no way “Uncle Seb” didn’t know about any of this. I’m also willing to go public on a PR level, to tell the world he was willing to use a sick old woman as a blackmailing tool.
My head spins as I read the message, pride warring with fear. She can’t put herself in harm’s way like this. Does she think Aaron will just take this lying down? Or his puppet master, Sebastian? And yet, it’s clear she’s done good work.
Dominic: If you go public against your uncle, you’ll have a target on your back, Songbird.
I quickly delete the nickname. Goddamn, I wish she were here, wish I could wrap my arms around her and bury my face in her hair.
Dominic: You need to move on with your life. That’s the best move.
Izzy: I’m not thinking about making moves. I want to make this right. I violated myself when I betrayed you. I’m not a sneak or a liar. I don’t betray people. That’s not who I am.
Dominic: You had no choice. Anybody would’ve done the same.
Izzy: But you still had to cut me out.
Because my father warned me never to trust. My wife-killing, child-killing father, my cop-bribing father, explained that trusting people will always lead to ruin.
You already knew I cheated on your mother. What’s a little killing on top of that?
Dominic: Don’t do anything stupid. You need to protect yourself and make your grandmother comfortable.
Izzy: With all due respect, sir, this isn’t your decision. I’m telling you so you’re not shocked if something happens.
Dominic: Bullshit. You told me because you want a response. Because you miss me as badly as I miss you.
I’m breathing hard when I click send, looking across the water at the city glistening in the setting sun.
Izzy: You miss me?
I smirk, can’t help it.
Dominic: Don’t act so shocked, Songbird.
This time, I don’t delete the nickname.
Dominic: But that has nothing to do with you putting yourself at risk.
Izzy: Maybe this is something I need to do. Not for you, for myself.
I call Mikhail, grinding my teeth.
“Where is she now?” I ask.
“At her apartment.”
I hang up, then turn and stride toward my car. It feels like months since we last saw each other, not the days it’s actually been. I know I’m violating the pledge I made to myself by going back to her, but I can’t let her do this without talking to her first. There’s no telling what Aaron might do in retaliation.
I speed through the city, squeezing the steering wheel hard.
When I pull up outside her apartment building, the sun has set. I nod to the security and walk to the main entrance. I press down on her buzzer, shifting from foot to foot. My heart is thudding hard at the prospect of seeing her again.
“Yes?” she asks over the intercom.
“It’s me,” I say.
Without another word, she buzzes me up. I take the stairs two at a time. In her apartment, she’s got printed-out photos laid all over her coffee table. There are men moving heavy bags, a fight caught mid-punch, as well as multiple drug deals.
She looks up at me, a small smile on her face, those bright, beautiful eyes alert with purpose.
I rush to her and pull her to me. I love the gasping noise she makes, part relief and part pure pleasure, with a little sassy resentment mixed in there. I think she might tell me to stop, that I can’t just turn up like this and start kissing her.
But then we melt into each other. Her lips find mine immediately. She moans and grips onto my sides, pulling herself closer, like she wants there to be no room between us. I slide my hands over her back and grip her hips tightly, possessively. I’ve never felt a rush of relief like this. It’s like the world suddenly makes sense again.