Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 16787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 84(@200wpm)___ 67(@250wpm)___ 56(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 16787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 84(@200wpm)___ 67(@250wpm)___ 56(@300wpm)
“Beretta, whatever it is, can you just get to the point?” I don’t like this rambling nonsense.
“Your father, he’s caught on the footage. He goes in the house around one in the morning on the day your mother passed, and I saw a light turn on in what I believe was her bedroom. A few moments later, there are people throwing their hands up through the curtains, and the next thing I know, the light’s being turned out. Then he’s coming out the back door and leaving through her side gate. I hope you don’t mind, but I called in a trusted friend to help me with this because I have a bad feeling. I don’t want to miss anything here, Cillian.”
“Are you saying you believe my father is the reason my mother’s dead?”
“I can send you a copy of the video if you’d like to see it, but yes, it’s exactly what I think. I’m so sorry, Cillian.”
The air escapes my lungs, and I’m stuck trying to process whatever the hell this is. Keenan was the one who found our mother. He said he didn’t see her before school that morning and thought she was sleeping in and then found her that night dead.
My father is the reason she’s no longer here with us.
Fuck.
CHAPTER EIGHT
MIA
A knock on my door stirs me from my peaceful slumber on my couch. I toss the blanket that was lying over me to the side and debate whether or not I’m going to answer it. I could very well stay here, but the knocking comes back, and it’s much more demanding. Now, I’m not sure who’d be coming over at this hour, but I’m going to tell them right off.
I stand up and waste no time getting to the doorway. I don’t have a peephole, so I unlock the door and throw it open, already spitting every word out with anger, “I don’t know who the hell you are, but what makes you even think anyone would want to speak to you at this hour? Honestly, I—” I get through all that, and then my eyes fall onto his.
The air escapes my lungs as I process the fact Cillian’s standing at my door. “I need to talk to you.” Cillian pushes past me and walks into my apartment like I’ve invited him.
“Cillian,” I grit out, trying to muster up whatever power I have. “Get out.”
“No,” he answers as he heads for the couch and falls back onto it. I haven’t seen this man in years before the other day, and now he’s walking around like he fucking lives here. The audacity he has is mind-blowing. “My father’s the reason my mother’s dead.” Cillian looks right at me, and he pauses, waiting for some sort of reaction.
I shut the door and walk toward him.
Initially, I’m not surprised. Everyone who’s anyone knows what his father’s capable of. He’s terrifying, and Bruno Bernardi has no problem crossing whatever line he feels is necessary. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because there are things I hid from you, and I’m tired of the hell my father has forced onto my life. It started with my mother’s death, and then he made it so being with you would put you in imminent danger.”
“What are you saying?” I’m not sure I’m following along.
“Why do you think I broke up with you? And I mean the real reason, Mia. You’d just told me you could’ve been pregnant. I wouldn’t have ever willingly chosen to walk away from you unless the circumstances were dire.” His eyes show me the utmost sincerity, and I swallow hard.
“I-I don’t understand.” I manage to get the words out, but it doesn’t mean things are easy right now.
“He advised me it would be in my best interests to end our relationship. I knew what it fucking meant. If I didn’t end what we had together, he was going to kill you. I don’t have any doubts about it.”
I suck in a deep breath and clear my throat. “My stepfather heard he put a ghost hit on me.”
Cillian’s eyes widen, but he runs his hands over his face in what I’m unsure of is frustration or confirmation. He grunts and, after a moment, speaks, “I would never willingly leave you. I hope you know that. We had something special, but I didn’t want you to die. I still don’t.” Cillian stands up and heads for the door.
“Wait. Where are you going?” I don’t know why I’m even speaking like this. I should let him walk out that door. He did it the first time, so why am I even debating letting him back in? My heart swells, knowing how important he is to me, knowing he didn’t leave because of his lack of caring—he left because he knew being with me would put me in imminent danger.