Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 76934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“Except she calls them dicks,” Brio said, smirking.
“Where are your kids?” I asked.
“There’s a birthday party for their friends a few doors down. They will head back after,” Ezmeray explained. “I didn’t realize she likes to read.” She seemed to be speaking mostly to herself.
“Ezzy, you know Alara. She’s… full of surprises.”
“If it helps, I think she’s mostly in the book club because she’s low-key obsessed with learning about the mob.”
“That I did know,” Ezzy admitted. “It started the day they rescued us. Been going strong ever since. You’ll be seeing her weekly?” she asked me.
“Yeah. Being a bagman is steady work for me right now.”
“You’ll keep an eye on her for me?” she asked. “I worry about her there. And I know she keeps things from us because she doesn’t want us to worry.” She paused. “Or because she thinks she can handle everything on her own.”
“She pays the Family for protection,” Brio reminded his wife.
“Yeah, but—”
“So, how long until dinner?” Alara asked, leaning in the doorway.
“Half an hour, give or take.”
“That bookstore the next street over, that’s only like a ten-minute walk, right?”
“You’re leaving to go to the bookstore?” Ezzy asked.
“I have to see a man—or woman—about a blood mage. Charlotte has made a good argument for me needing to read it. Even if there isn’t an alien with a special nub.”
“I don’t think I want to know what that means,” Ezzy said.
“Well, you see, they have this extra little nub right above their—”
“Uncle Chris,” Charlotte piped in.
“Jesus. You need a bell on your neck or something, you ninja,” Alara said, wide-eyed at what she almost just explained in front of a twelve-year-old.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“Alara is going to the bookstore.”
“Is this you asking to go too?”
“No.”
“No?” I asked. In her whole life, she’d never turned down a trip to a bookstore.
“I have a whole pile still. It’s nighttime, though.”
“Uh, yeah,” I agreed, looking out the window.
“Alara shouldn’t walk alone.”
“I walk alone at night all the time.”
“More stuff for me to worry about,” Ezmeray grumbled.
“Uncle Chris,” Charlotte said with more emphasis, giving me big eyes and stern lips.
Was Alara likely perfectly capable of a ten-minute walk in a very safe neighborhood? Sure.
But I was also trying to be, you know, a good example to Liam for how a man should behave and to Charlotte for how men should treat her one day.
“Right. Yeah. Of course I should walk her.”
For once, Alara bit back whatever she clearly wanted to say.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” I asked.
“Come where?” Liam asked, appearing behind his sister.
“Nowhere. You’re staying here with me,” Charlotte said. “I need help with something.”
“What do you need help with here?” Liam asked.
But his sister was grabbing him by the wrist and leading her bewildered brother away.
“Ready?” Alara asked.
“Sure,” I agreed, finishing my drink, then following her through the house.
“Don’t worry,” Charlotte called. “We’ll watch Tuna for you. Right, Liam?”
“Ah, yeah, sure.”
Liam’s brows were knitted but he was always on his sister’s side. Even when she was making no sense.
With that, we walked out of the brownstone.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Alara
“Does it bother you?” I asked when Chris paused to look at the townhouse.
“Does what bother me?”
“That these guys you used to rank alongside are, well, more established?”
“I won’t lie and say I’m not envious about Lorenzo, Emilio, and Brio. Who wouldn’t want a brownstone? But I know I can’t measure my progress against theirs. They didn’t have the same shit to deal with that I did. And I’m back now and ready to make up for lost time.”
“Which isn’t going to be as easy with kids.”
“They’re not babies. Charlotte is only a few weeks away from being a teenager too.”
“I like her. She’s whip-smart.”
“You’re good with her. Both of them.”
“Oh, here we go.”
“Here we go, what?”
“I hear that all the time. ‘But you’re so good with kids!’ Or ‘But you’d be such a great mom!’ Or a thousand other iterations of that. All of it meaning the same thing: that I’m basically making the wrong choice by not having kids.”
“I don’t think you’re making the wrong choice. I think being a parent is one of those things that you have to be sure about. If you’re not sure, you shouldn’t have them.”
“Were they in your plans?”
“Honestly, I never gave it any thought. Back before I had to move home, I was too busy building my career to think about that. Then I was in the trenches of taking care of my mom, my sister, the kids. There was no time to think about what I wanted.”
“And now the decision was basically made for you.”
“I love those kids. And I did make the choice. That said, I’m not sure I would want to start over again with a baby at this age.”
“I like them at Liam and Char’s ages. They’re actually, you know, people.” I mean, I liked to make faces at a baby or play tag with an elementary school-aged kid as much as the next guy. But it’s nice to actually be able to connect with a kid, not just answer their very strange and often invasive questions.