Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 115997 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115997 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
“I have nothing else to say to you.” Nate backed up, his arm still extended in front of me, keeping a barrier between his dad and me.
“Or you could just run away like you always do!”
“David!” one of the aunts chided.
“Just stop into the goddamn lawyer’s office and sign the deed over to me,” his dad commanded, his voice icier than the weather. “It’s the least you can do after not bothering to come home and visit her for the last five years.”
I gasped.
“Izzy, I’m going to need you to step back,” Nate warned, in a low, lethal tone I’d never heard before.
“Nate?” There had to be a way to postpone whatever confrontation was looming until they buried his mother, wasn’t there?
“Please.” He didn’t take his eyes off his father.
I did as he asked, retreating a handful of steps for that very reason. If Nate wouldn’t look away from his father, it meant he’d been given grounds not to in the past.
“So nice to everyone but your own damned family.” His father glared at Nate. “Just sign the deed and go back to your new and better life. We both know you don’t want it, and you sure as hell can’t run it.”
“You’re right. I don’t want it. But I’m not signing the farm over to you,” Nate replied, his arms loose at his sides.
“So you’re just going to kick me out?”
Nate shook his head. “Not yet.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Color flushed his father’s cheeks.
“It means that you can live in it for now.” Nate shrugged.
“For now?” His brow furrowed, and his hands curled into fists.
My pulse jumped.
“For months. For years. Who knows. But one day I’ll sell it.” Nate’s voice lowered, and even the groundskeepers stopped what they were doing to watch. “And I won’t tell you, won’t warn you.” He shook his head. “No, I want you scared. I want you to wake up every single day and wonder, worry, if today is the day that what you did to her comes back to haunt you. I want you just as anxious as she was every single night, waiting to see what kind of mood you’d be in when you got home, waiting to see if she’d be your punching bag or if you’d reach for me.”
My stomach fell to the ground. Nate had boarded our flight with a split lip four years ago. What had he said about the wound? About the split knuckles?
It won’t exactly be the first time someone has swung for me, and at least this time I’ll be armed. He’d been talking about his father.
“And my biggest regret isn’t that I didn’t come home to visit,” Nate continued. “She knew I’d sworn to never breathe the same air as you ever again. My biggest regret is that I couldn’t get her to leave, too, no matter how hard I tried.”
“You little shit.” His father lunged, and before I could shout, Nate caught the fist swinging in his direction.
“It’s going to take a lot more than that to hit me now.” Nate’s knuckles turned white, and his father yelped, yanking his fist out of Nate’s grip. “I’m not a scrawny teenager anymore. I’ve spent years ending bullies just like you. You can’t scare me anymore.”
His father’s eyes widened as he cradled his hand, backing away from Nate slowly. “You’ll regret that.” The frost in his voice made me shiver.
“I doubt it.”
“You want to swing on me, don’t you, boy?” A corner of his mouth twisted.
“Yes.” Nate’s arms fell to his sides. “But I’m not going to. That’s the difference between you and me.”
“You keep telling yourself that.” Nate’s father spat on the ground, then turned and stalked away, heading for a blue F-150 parked along the curb.
Holy shit. This was how Nate grew up, and somehow he’d turned out like . . . Nate.
He pivoted slowly to face me, and for a second, I didn’t recognize him. This man wasn’t the Nathaniel I knew. I had no doubt that the man in front of me had been to war, that he’d seen things, done things, I’d never fully understand.
And yet, I wasn’t scared of him.
“I’ll walk you to your car,” he said, leaving no room for argument.
I nodded, and his hand gentled as he set it on the small of my back. We walked silently to the sedan I’d rented, because for once, I was at a loss for words. There was a tension in him, a restlessness I didn’t know what to do with. I was out of my depth.
My phone buzzed rhythmically, and I reached for it out of habit, but my fingers were stiff with cold, and I accidentally answered and managed to hit the speakerphone instead of end. “Mom, I’ll call you—”
“Tell me you did not leave a date with a promising tech developer to chase after that soldier, Isa, or so help me—”