Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
“He was out with Simon and Davide last night,” Mom says and looks at her nails. “Your father told me all about it.”
I sigh and look at the ceiling. Of course Dad knows, and of course Mom got all the gory details. “He’s helping. That’s all.”
“And you’re fine with that, right? Everything’s peachy keen?”
I throw up my hands in frustration. “No, okay, nothing’s keen or peachy or whatever, it’s all a freaking mess. There, are you happy?”
“Not really,” she says and gestures for me to come sit next to her. I flop down onto the tall chair next to her and lean my elbows on the island, putting my face in my hands. She rubs my back. “You like him,” she says. Not a question.
“I don’t know what I feel,” I admit, which isn’t a no. “But I know it sucks that he’s getting dragged into this fight too, and I know it’s all my fault.”
“He wants to help because of you?” Mom sounds surprised. “I assumed it was because Simon made him an offer.”
“No, it was Brody’s idea. He saw the way I reacted to Matty and I guess he figured getting himself murdered would be a great idea.”
Mom’s quiet and I take a second to gather myself. I’m way too emotional right now, and I guess for good reason. There’s a war going on, I lost a friend, and I’m worried about losing even more—all on top of dealing with a new relationship.
“I take it he cares about you too,” she says finally. “That’s a good thing, sweetie.”
“You can say that at his funeral.”
She sighs and leans her head on my shoulder. “It doesn’t have to come to that. Your father’s still kicking.”
“Dad’s not a good example. He got shot, got addicted to pain pills, lost his mind, and had to retire.”
“Fair point, but still. Your brothers won’t let him get hurt.”
I’m not so sure about that. Davide’s single-minded and all he cares about is taking the fight to Santoro. Simon’s the same way, and he’ll do anything to win. That means they’d happily sacrifice Brody without any regard for how it might make me feel or the obvious moral quandary.
“I wish I could change his mind,” I say, feeling bleak. “But he’s so stinking stubborn. I swear, that man prides himself on having zero emotions.”
“Everyone has emotions, dear, and I’m sure Brody has plenty for you. Just try talking to him. Whenever your father was acting like a bastard, that’s what I did.”
“Yeah? How’d that go?”
“Mostly not great, but at least it made me feel like I was doing something.” She hugs me tighter, and I’m not feeling comforted, not even a little bit.
I have the day to stew. I exercise, hang out with Emily, talk to some of the guards about Matty, and meet Brody back home when he arrives around six. He’s tired, and I pour him some wine and order some delivery for us, before springing my plan on him.
“I’ve been thinking about your problem,” I say, trying to sound very casual. He looks up at me with those pretty green eyes of his.
“Which problem’s that?” he asks.
“The problem that should matter. The Waterfront project.”
He grunts, head tilted to the side, and I can tell he’s already skeptical. “That’s one thing on my mind.”
I sit down next to him, crossing my legs in his direction, and he puts a hand on my knee. I like the way he does it, so casually, like it’s completely normal to touch me when I’m nearby. For a man who tries to keep his emotions as level as possible, he sure as hell likes to put his hands on me. Not that I’m complaining.
“I was thinking we could ambush O’Malley. I made a few calls and it turns out she likes to go drinking at this place called The Spotted Leopard. It’s like a cheesy Irish bar.”
“I know the place,” he says with a soft laugh. “It’s in my fucking territory. The owner pays my people tribute.”
“Perfect,” I say, sitting up straight. His eyes move to my chest and I like the hungry way he licks his lips. But he needs to focus. “Then we’ll have a great excuse to show up there while she’s slightly inebriated and hopefully in a good mood.”
He looks amused as he tilts his head to the side. “O’Malley plays straight, remember? What’s the point in ambushing her?”
“She’s a person like everyone else. All we need to do is find a little leverage.” I pat his cheek and he playfully bats my hand away. “Don’t worry, sweetie, I’ll take care of it.”
“Listen to you,” he growls and grabs me, pulling me into his lap. I laugh, pretending to struggle. “You’re taking care of me now?”
“Exactly, just let me do all the work. You’re all about the brute force, and that works in some situations, but this needs a gentler touch.”