Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 132498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
“I blamed you for everything. For the loneliness. For the way I had to change. For her.”
I reach out and brush my finger against the base of the headstone. “That was before I knew the role you played. I know now. I’m not going to lie, what you did was wrong. You took away my choice.”
My throat tightens, pressure building there from all the words and emotions I’ve been holding back for too long.
“I don’t understand why you lied,” I whisper. “Why did you let me believe that letter was real? Why did you let me think she walked away from me like I meant nothing?”
My chest aches.
“Why didn’t you give me her letter?” My voice cracks on the word her. “The real one. The one she gave you. The one that would’ve saved us years of pain.”
I bow my head. “I want to hate you. I want to ask why. But I know the reason.”
I lift my gaze back to her name.
“You were trying to protect me,” I say quietly. “From my family. From the blood that would be spilled once I found out who I was. And you wanted to protect me from what you thought would ultimately be my undoing . . . her.”
My mouth twists. “You thought if she walked away, I’d be free. That I’d stop loving her.” I shake my head slowly. “You underestimated her.”
My eyes burn now, unshed tears gathering behind my lids.
“She taught me how to forgive,” I whisper. “I forgive you. Even though you don’t get to hear it. Even though it took me too long to say it . . .”
I scrub a hand over my face, catching a drop of wetness on my cheek.
“I still don’t like what you did,” I add hoarsely. “I don’t think I ever will. But I understand it.”
I push myself to my feet and stand over her grave. “I’m trying to be better for her. For the life we’re building. I want to become the man she deserves.”
The wind picks up again, and it feels cool against my skin.
“I hope wherever you are, you see that.”
I take one last look at her name, then step back.
“Goodbye, Mom.”
I pull up to the warehouse.
Today has been the longest day ever. After the cemetery, I’ve followed way too many bad leads.
I just want to get back to my wife.
Wife . . .
For the first time in months, this feels like a real marriage. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to myself that I’m ecstatic about that fact.
Sure, my plan was never for either of us to be happy. I only wanted revenge. To make sure Victoria was as miserable as I was, but now that is the farthest thing from my mind. All I want is to be with her.
Grow old with her.
But instead, I’m here right now.
My uncle wants this guy’s head on a platter, which I plan to give him once I find the bitch. Unfortunately for me, the little shit is a slippery little fucker.
Rafe drives with one hand on the wheel and the other resting near his thigh, close to his gun. His jaw stays set, eyes forward, and his expression remains calm. Me . . . I’m not calm. I’m pissed.
I lean my head back and let my eyes close for half a second.
We almost got him.
It’s going to make killing him so satisfying.
I picture it for a second—his face when he realizes he built this whole stunt to impress an uncle, and all he managed to do was piss off the wrong enemies and get himself killed.
My mouth twitches.
Rafe glances at me. “That look again.”
I crack my knuckles slowly. “What look?”
“The one that makes me know you’re about to have fun gutting someone.”
I stare out the window at the passing trees and street signs, my reflection flickering in the glass. “After what this asshole has put us through, I will.”
Vin puts down his phone. “Matteo is on.”
“Cousin, what’s the good word?” I ask him.
“The warehouse my team went to was hit too.”
My gaze slides to him. “Fuck.”
“They moved three hours before we arrived. Like they knew.”
“Of course they knew,” I grunt. “Everybody’s psychic these days.”
“We really need to find the fucking leak,” Matteo grunts.
“I’m working on it,” I reply, voice calm.
“Good, cous, because Pops is pissed.” He laughs. “He wants answers.”
“Fine. I’ll keep them alive long enough to talk . . . for now.”
“You do that. Got to go, I need to find someone to kill.”
After he hangs up, I nod to Vin.
His brow arches. “We still have the last contact. The one Doyle named. If he’s alive, he’ll lead us.”
“If he’s dead,” I add, rolling my shoulder until the joint pops, “I’ll still make him lead us. I’ll just have to get creative.”
“You’re a sick fuck.” Rafe snorts, but it isn’t an amused one. It’s a tired one. “Your uncle’s going to want an update by sunrise.”