These Broken Hours – Vandello – Dark Mafia Read Online B.B. Hamel

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Mafia, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 74589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
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“Nothing ever makes sense, sweetie.” I drift into her room and sit down on the bed next to her. She leans into me and I wrap my arms around my little sister, hugging her close. When did she gets so fragile? Kady’s always been the strong one, but right now she feels like she might crack into a million little pieces. I have to be the glue that keeps her from falling apart.

I brush her hair back and ask, “What did he do?”

“Apologized. Can you believe it? He fucking apologized. Said the whole blackmail thing was the biggest mistake of his life and he was just desperate. Said he loves me.”

“Oh, god, Kady.”

“I know, right? The stupid asshole could’ve told me that before he tried to force me to be his fucking love slave or whatever he was thinking.”

“Kady—”

“I’m not going back to him, okay? I told him that and he didn’t take it well, but he didn’t touch me and I’m fine and I’m not going back to him, but I still fucking miss him, okay? I fucking miss him.” She leans forward and cries.

I hold her tighter, my little sister, my heart breaking for her. I know what she’s feeling, or at least some part of it. I felt the same way when Nolan went to prison, even though it was my fault he went to prison, which only made it worse. I never loved anyone, not before or since, and I’m not even sure I loved Nolan back then or if he was my closest friend and I thought that was love—but Kady’s hurting, and I know enough to know she needs me.

I let her cry for a while, just being there for her because there are no words that’ll fix what she’s going through right now, before she begins to calm down. I finally coax her out to eat and pour two big glasses of wine.

But before I sit down, I send a text on the new phone.

Cora: Hate to use this thing already but Jaxson showed up at Kady’s work. She’s fine, everything’s fine, but he’s not leaving her alone.

Seconds later, he messages back.

Nolan: Meet me in the woods tomorrow morning. The usual spot.

I stare at his message and my heart starts racing, my cheeks flushing, my hands shaking. I put the phone down and take a long drink of wine to try to clear my head but it’s like a hornet’s nest in there.

Why the hell would Nolan want to meet me in the woods like the old days? I haven’t been back in that forest since the morning before I testified and no part of me wants to relive that experience. There are so many good memories of those woods with him, dozens or hundreds or even thousands, but the most recent one burns so bright and hot it drowns out all the rest.

And yet that’s what he wants.

“You okay? You look pale.” Kady pushes her pasta around, steaming from the microwave.

“I’m fine.” I force myself to smile. Kady needs me right now. I can deal with my Nolan drama later, or tomorrow, or ideally never. “Let’s eat. Tell me about work aside from your obnoxious ex showing up.”

She sighs and launches into a story about the worst customers ever, and we drink for a while before going to bed nice and early. I curl up in bed with Kady like we used to when we were little and pull the blankets on top of us. She pretends like she’s not crying into her pillow and I pretend like I don’t know, but eventually she falls asleep while I stare at the ceiling.

How am I supposed to close my eyes when I know the dreams are waiting?

And worse, the woods?

I carry my travel mug down the short grassy slope, wearing jeans, boots, and a zip-up hoodie despite the heat and humidity. The early sunlight’s weak and the trees groan against the breeze. If it weren’t for the fact that I’m going to a place I don’t want to visit to see a person I don’t want to see, this might actually be a decent morning. I keep the hood up and pulled tight.

The woods used to seem a lot bigger. I remember them as a forest, a gigantic monstrosity filled with old-growth trees and scattered with human refuse—old tires, the ubiquitous naked lady playing cards, Doritos bags, an old rusting metal drum, a half-buried bike, stacks of garbage bags, crushed beer cans. Most of that is gone now or overgrown, and I feel like a giant returning home only to find everyone’s actually normal sized, and I’m the one that’s huge. I don’t fit the forest anymore, or my memory doesn’t square with what my grown-up brain’s telling me, and it all feels so strange.


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