Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 173392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 867(@200wpm)___ 694(@250wpm)___ 578(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 173392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 867(@200wpm)___ 694(@250wpm)___ 578(@300wpm)
Jerome knew he was meeting with one of us tonight and decided to kill two birds with one stone. He wanted me to see this.
Liv sits up. “Krisjen, what are you doing?”
Krisjen doesn’t reply.
Jerome Watson doesn’t sound fazed. “What else?” he demands.
“My brother and sister come with me.”
“What?” her father speaks up. “Where’s your mother?”
But no one pays him any mind. My head swims.
“Your sister,” Jerome tells her. “Your brother should be away at school by now.”
“What the hell is this?” her father barks.
Good question. It seems Krisjen has realized she can do better. I shouldn’t care. She never lied. She knew she’d give in.
“Why would I still want you?” Watson asks her, suddenly playing hard to get.
He may not know she fucked Army and Iron, but he does know about Trace. My stomach twists with knots.
Fuck her.
I clench my jaw before speaking. “Whether you marry her or not,” I tell him, “you’re going to want a piece of her. Trust me.”
And now he knows I had her, too.
Her father pounds the table with his fist once, and Dallas laughs under his breath. Krisjen doesn’t move.
I stand up, collecting my helmet as my brothers and sister get up with me. Screw this. I wasn’t going to give Ames anything anyway, but now, I hope there’s a fucking war. They’re all going to bleed.
“I will get the land,” Ames says, warning me before I bolt.
“The hard way, then,” I say in a low voice. “I’m in the mood for a fight. A long, loud, expensive fight.”
“There may be losses.”
“As long as you’re okay with that,” I tell him.
Trace chuckles, and Dallas stretches his arms in the air. “Ah, this is going to be fun.”
I kick my chair back, hearing it tumble behind me. “And the stock market in Tokyo is closed all day,” I tell Ames as I walk out. “It’s Saturday there.”
31
Krisjen
I’m glad he leaves quickly.
It takes everything not to watch him as he passes me. As I absorb the last I’ll probably see of him for who knows how long.
I will see him, though. Maybe at a stoplight a year from now. On Liv’s social media when she’s home with them next summer. Maybe he’ll have a kid someday, and I’ll have a kid, and I’ll see him across the field as they play on opposing sides.
I will see him, though. He’s not done yet, and I’m satisfied with that. I can be satisfied with that.
But I still feel like my insides are bleeding.
I draw in a breath, hear the door close, and look at my father. “Are you going to raise the kids?” I ask him. “You and your girlfriend?”
He lifts his chin, his discomfort at discussing this in front of his colleagues evident. But we don’t have to discuss anything.
“They stay with me,” I tell him, taking out the check from a pack I found in his desk. “Say yes.”
“We need to talk.”
“We will.” I set the check, already made out, on the table. “Say yes.”
He inhales and exhales three times, and then nods once, barely. He might be willing to go the distance with me and Paisleigh after he’s remarried and has set up house properly, but he doesn’t believe Mars is his, and it doesn’t matter, because I’m not discussing it. We’re a package deal.
I slide the check over to him. “And pay her off.”
He drops his eyes to the check, taking in the sizable but fair amount I wrote out. She won’t acquiesce for anything less.
“I left her the house to sell,” he says.
“You mean the home where your children live?” I fire back. “Fuck you.”
Garrett Ames chuckles and then takes a sip of his scotch.
“Krisjen, what has gotten into you?” my father growls in a near whisper.
He’s embarrassed.
I don’t retreat. “Take out your Montblanc,” I order him.
Take out your fucking pen and sign it and this is done. He’ll be free. He doesn’t break eye contact until he has his pen out and starts signing it.
He pushes it back over to me, and I take out my phone, log into my bank account, and scan the check, immediately depositing it.
I put both the check and my phone away. “If it doesn’t clear, the next check will be bigger.”
His jaw flexes, but he keeps his mouth shut, slipping his pen back into his breast pocket.
“Have your lawyer draw up the papers,” I tell him. “Bring them when you come to see your kids next Saturday. I’ll make sure she signs them quickly.”
“Krisjen.”
“Please leave,” I say.
And I lift my eyes to the wall behind him, done dealing with him tonight. Two down, one more to go.
Buttoning his suit jacket, he walks out, slamming the door behind him.
Jerome tsks. “Not as sweet as I thought.”
I cock my head. “Y’all are handfuls.”
He laughs, but I don’t.
“So why the change of heart?” he asks.