Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 90426 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90426 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
“When I say their situation is dire, sir, I mean that gravely,” I shared. “There’s no time to waste.”
Ansley looked to Loren.
Loren was watching us, but when he had our attention, he looked down to Edgar.
“Where are they?” he asked.
“Go,” Edgar sniffed, “straight to hell.”
Okay, they had the concept of hell here.
Or maybe just the curse word?
“You can offer the information, or you can give me my most fervent wish for this evening. That being to crush each bone, one by one, in the hand you took to Satrine. Your choice, sir. Provide it, please,” Loren returned.
Totally…
Bad…
Ass.
Edgar sat there, glaring up at Loren, and then…shit…he smirked.
“I have contingencies in place, of course. Maxine, she’s no use to me, the woman…” he made a spitting noise without spitting, which wasn’t nice, and pissed me off, because “the woman” was my mom.
But he wasn’t finished.
“It is only I, in person, who can release them. And if I, in person, do not do that or send regular communications with a certain code so they’ll know they’re from me, communications sharing how they are to be treated, it has been instructed they are to be eliminated.”
Eliminated?
I released a loud, terrified gasp.
Edgar’s head bobbled because Loren had a hold of him by his neckcloth, saying, “Well then, arsehole, we’re taking a trip.”
“Unhand me!” Edgar shouted.
And that was all Loren could take.
Crunch!
Fist to the face.
And Edgar was on his hands and knees on the floor.
Loren pulled him up to just his knees with his hand in Edgar’s hair and…
Crunch!
Another fist to the face and Edgar was sprawling on his stomach on the floor.
“It seems…” Loren said through his teeth, staring down at Dad-not-Dad with repugnance, “your situation is escaping you. I advise, sir, take stock.”
“Son,” Ansley said mildly.
Loren didn’t move or take his attention from the form he’d, no other way to put it, laid…right the fuck…out.
Bustling and snorting with fury, Edgar pushed up to his feet, scrambled out of reach of Loren, and turned fired eyes to me.
“They’re dead!” he sniped. “And you’ve killed them.”
“No!” I cried, starting to dash to him.
Loren caught me and pulled me to his body.
“I will be released this instant,” Edgar demanded. He jabbed a finger at Loren. “You will marry my daughter.” He turned and jabbed a finger at Ansley. “You will offer your respect and referral to the Count of Derryman. If you do not, within four days, they’re both dead.”
“Is he bluffing?” Ansley asked, still speaking calmly.
“I cannot tell,” Loren answered, just as calm.
I pulled from Loren’s hold, whirled on him, and channeling Violet Crawley, I snapped, “I don’t give a fig if he is or not. Do what he says. We can figure it out after.” And that was when I lost it, and shrieked, “I want my mother back!”
“Figure it out after?” Loren asked carefully.
“I don’t know, get a divorce, an annulment, whatever,” I replied.
His jaw tilted sharply to the side.
“You will have his child. My blood will be Dalton!” Edgar proclaimed. He finished on a bellow. “It is my final legacy!”
Oh my God!
This dude was totally crazy!
I twisted to him. “Can it, Dad.”
“You insolent—”
“If you insult me again, I’ll…”
“What?” he bit.
What indeed.
I had no power.
I had nothing.
I could do nothing.
To, or more importantly, for anybody.
I closed my eyes, dropped my head, and whispered, “God, I just want my mom and I wanna take her home.”
I felt it before it happened.
Fire in the room.
Nope.
An inferno.
My head jerked up.
Ansley thundered, “Loren!”
I wrapped both my hands around my throat as I watched Loren drive Edgar to his knees, and then he picked up a heavy crystal objet d’art, forced Edgar’s hand flat on a side table, and savagely brought the bottom of the crystal onto Edgar’s hand.
I heard bones break and cringed.
Dad-not-Dad roared with pain.
“Are we riding to release your wife and daughter?” Loren asked.
“I’ll personally have you brought in front of Noctorno,” Edgar threatened, pomposity still firmly in place, but it was now edged in pain. “He will not stand for this treatment of a member of his aristocracy, no matter who you are.”
“Please do. I’ll enjoy watching you explain why you faked your wife’s suicide, imprisoned her with your injured daughter, hid that I should have been released from our contract twenty years ago, hid your other daughter’s existence for reasons that could only be considered nefarious, then forced her to carry out your social climbing, and took your hand to her. In Tor’s short reign, he’s been quite lenient with the abuses of power of his aristocracy. I’m sure he’ll be heavily disappointed in me.”
Edgar was breathing through his teeth, which gave me the sense that Loren was using sarcasm to make his point.
Seemed King Noctorno was a pretty standup guy.
“Shall we head to Bellebryn now?” Loren asked.
Edgar slowly turned his head and looked up at Loren.