Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 74022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
His jaw tightens. I just stare, my eyes not wavering. Not that his are, either. Nothing bothers him. Nothing. It used to frustrate the hell out of me. But I don’t care now.
“What do you want, Chantelle? You’re obviously here for something.”
“I want fifty thousand dollars.”
I don’t hold back. I say it how it is, so we can get straight to the point. He’s going to want something in return, they always do, so I might as well start the negotiations.
He stares at me, and for a moment, I think he might just laugh. Instead, he just watches me, for a good long time. Then he finally says, “What for?”
I had a lot of things to offer when I came in here, but decided, to try one last time, to tug at his heart. I mean, I am his daughter. He has to love me a little, right? If not, I’ll offer something else...I’ll work for him for a while, whatever it takes to keep Boston safe. But for now, I’m praying, just praying, he’ll open some piece of that steel wall for me.
“I’m pregnant.”
He blinks at me. Then he just stares, and stares, and dammit, this isn’t going to work.
“You’re pregnant?” he finally says.
“Yes, I’m pregnant. With a wonderful man.”
Who doesn’t yet know.
And is a biker.
“So, what do you need fifty thousand dollars for?”
“A house,” I say, probably a little too quickly, but I’m running out of time. “I want to buy a house.”
“How come your wonderful man doesn’t buy one for you?”
I clench my jaw. I was an idiot for thinking this would work.
“Because I want to buy my own house,” I say. “You know me, I don’t like relying on anyone else.”
“And yet you’re here, asking me for money. I’d class that as relying on someone.”
My heart is racing. And I feel like I’m going to vomit. I just need this money, dammit. I need to get Boston out. I need to know he’s okay.
This is wasting time.
Enzo could be doing anything to him.
Anything at all.
“Yeah, I am. Because I deserve it.”
My father raises his brows. “How so?”
“Because I’m your daughter. Because that should mean something. The boys, they got more than fifty thousand dollars, and I walked away with nothing. I am doing it on my own, and I’m struggling. I shouldn’t have to beg you for a tiny percentage of what you happily threw at your other children.”
His face grows hard. Now, I feel like maybe I’ve pissed him off and I’ll get nothing but a boot out the door, but too bad, it’s the truth.
“Because, I’d like to hope I mean something,” I go on. “Something, fuck, just a little something. I’d like to hope your...” I hesitate, “...grandchild, might mean something. I’m not asking for much, you know I’m not. But I am asking...”
I hold my breath, and wait. I just wait.
Dammit.
This is too much.
“Okay. You can have the money, on one condition.”
Dammit.
I knew there would be a condition.
I knew it.
I keep holding my breath as I wait for it. I wait for him to drop a bomb that I’m going to have to walk right into, to save the man I love.
“You come for dinner, once a month.”
I blink.
What did he just say?
Dinner?
That’s it?
“That’s it?” I almost whisper.
He nods. “Yes, Chantelle. That’s it. I’m not a monster, at least, not the kind you think I am. You are my daughter, and you are important. You chose your path, I let you choose your path, and I will not interfere. But if you want something from me, I want something from you. And that something is a dinner, at home, once a month.”
I never saw that coming.
And I get a strange ache in my chest.
An unfamiliar one.
One I haven’t felt in a long time.
I squash it down, and find myself nodding before I can think anything more of it.
“Okay,” I agree. “Once a month.”
He nods and for a moment, we just lock eyes. “I’ll have the money organized for you now.”
“Thank you,” I say, turning and going to leave.
“Chantelle,” he calls out, and I stop, looking over my shoulder.
“Be well, and take care of that baby.”
I keep it together.
But that ache grows as I nod.
And then I walk out.
That did not go at all like I thought it would.
Not at all.
~23~
NOW – BOSTON
I spit blood in Enzo’s direction. He laughs, pulling his fist back and driving it forward again, not for the first time, and smashing it into my face. Bones crack, skin splits, and blood spurts forth. He’s loving every second of this. But one day, fuck, one day, it’ll be him on the receiving end. I vow it.
I fuckin’ vow it.
“Nothin’ you can do to me, will fuckin’ bother me, you sadistic fuck,” I spit, baring my teeth at him. “You’ll get what’s coming to you. You think you can run, and we won’t find you...We’ll fucking find you.”