Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
She did give the update on Julia.
“Apparently, she has feeling in her left foot now. She can sit up, but she still can’t use anything below her hips,” Nastya explained. “Oh, and Rich got moved to a more secure prison because he tried to escape. Strangled a guard to try to do it, too.”
Dima snorted. “Dummies.”
“You want to know the funniest part?” Nastya turned to look at Dima in the back.
“Sure,” Dima said.
“The man that moved him to a more secure prison is also the man that replaced that asshole senator that tried to kill Nastya,” Milena interjected before Nastya could.
“Seems like karmic justice, huh?” Dima supplied.
“Sure does.” Nastya turned. “Even better, it’s in the middle of nowhere, Texas, and they have no air conditioner.”
When we pulled into the driveway, Brecken came out carrying our youngest daughter, Rosie.
Rosie was two and a half months old and was the cutest thing you’d ever see.
Our son, who was now fifteen months old, came barreling out the door right behind her but was caught by my mom before he could run near us.
Once she saw that I was there, she let him go, and he pumped his little legs as fast and hard as he could, running right at me.
“Daddy!”
Daddy.
I’d never get over hearing that sound come from my children’s throats.
I’d dealt with a lot of shit in my work life, and it didn’t matter what I saw at work, if I heard that word come from my kid’s mouth, it was like all was right in the world.
Just as he was about to get to me, he veered hard right and then said, “Mama!”
My wife picked up her son, pulled him into her arms, and then kissed him all over his face.
“Eewwww!” Nathaniel groaned. “Gross!”
Just as Nathaniel said “gross,” my daughter pulled up in her brand-new car.
Her brand-new car that she’d paid for.
In the last four years, Nastya and she had gone into business, so to speak.
Nastya still did her blog, but my daughter had taken over the video side of the operation and had grown it into something so huge that she was making a fuckin’ killing.
At twenty years old, she was damn near a multi-millionaire.
Oh, and she had everything that she could ever want because people sent her all kinds of free stuff to try.
“Oh!” Desi came running toward us. “It’s here!”
“What is ‘it?’” I asked.
“It…” She came to a stop, her eyes gleaming. “Is…” She produced a box cutter out of her purse, then opened it to reveal…
“A mini excavator!” she cried. “And it was free! I just have to tell them what I think about the arm thingy or whatever.”
I shook my head.
We’d had to build onto our house to expand their operation.
Shasha had laughed his ass off until he’d had to add onto his own place because his wife kept going home with things that Desi and Nastya gave her.
Hell, even Milena had to add on.
There was literally so much fuckin’ shit everywhere that it was hard to navigate it sometimes.
“Well, hell,” Dima said as he stared at it. “Now, I gotta try it.”
He started it up and drove it backward off the trailer.
I walked to Brecken and snagged my little girl from her.
She winked and said, “I gotta get started on dinner. See y’all in a few.”
She started to walk down the road, disappearing from sight once she’d made it to her own gate.
She came down to visit a lot.
That was one thing that I liked about the compound that Shasha had built.
The family was close.
My own family was looking for their own places to build on the same lake, only a bit farther down the shore.
Eventually, we’d have them all close.
Speaking of close, my wife came up to me, her eyes on our daughter.
The moment she was near, I pulled her into the curve of my arm and said, “We have it all, Mama.”
She leaned her face into me and said, “Just one more thing.”
“What’s that?”
She pulled away and said, “Hey, Renee?”
My mom turned toward us. “Yeah?”
“Did you bring the package?”
My mom smiled and disappeared into the house.
She came out a long minute later with two dogs in tow.
One was a black mastiff and the other…
“Oh,” I breathed. “He looks just like Finn.”
“You’ll love her name,” she said.
I walked over to the big dog and bent down.
Both of them assaulted us with kisses, but they were incredibly gentle with Rosie, still fast asleep in my arms.
I pulled the collar of Finn’s lookalike around and felt my stomach clench.
Finnia.
Finnia.
“You named her Finnia?” I asked, my heart aching.
“No.” Nastya smoothed her hand over Finnia’s head. “She was named Finnia by the old lady that used to own her. When she died, they came as a pair to your mom’s shelter. As soon as I saw Finnia, I knew we had to adopt them.”