Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 142783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
My nerves rattled, and I did my best to swallow it down, nodding at him once before I shifted, removed the phone from the charger, and snuck out into the kitchen area.
My voice was held when I answered, “Merry Christmas, Papa.”
“Mia vita, Merry Christmas.”
His affection filled my spirit. My love for him real even though he’d caused so much pain and grief.
“It truly is, Papa. It’s the first one where I felt whole and right since before I can remember.”
Or maybe I never had.
A heavy sigh pilfered through the line. “Please tell me you haven’t allowed your whimsical fantasies to delude you, Aster Rose. It’s time you come home, where you belong, and leave this foolishness behind.”
My mind spun with how to handle this best.
“No. Not yet. I’m so close to finding them, Papa. I’ve earned his trust.” My voice dropped even lower with that. I felt like a fraud saying it, and not because I held any guilt over lying to my father. “I need more time, and you promised me thirty days.”
“We miss you here.”
My laughter was close to disbelieving. “I’m not sure how you can miss something that doesn’t truly exist.”
There, I was a shell.
Numb.
A caricature with a false smile.
“You know everything, every choice I’ve ever made, is because of my love for you.”
The sad thing was I thought he might believe it.
“No, Papa. Every choice you ever made was for you because you believed in a lie that was passed down from generation to generation that proclaimed that was the way it was supposed to be. It was wrong. Horrible. A crime. And I will no longer pretend like it’s not.”
“Aster.” His voice was aghast. Low and filled with a warning.
“It’s the truth, Papa. And you know it. It’s time you came to accept it.”
I ended the call before giving him a chance to respond, and the air squeezed from my lungs in spastic quakes.
I was shocked at what I’d said.
Shocked by the truth that I was going to stand behind it.
An overwhelming presence emerged over me from behind. Stark intensity. Mind-bending beauty. Logan wrapped his arms around my waist, and he pressed his nose into my hair until it was sweeping the sensitive spot at the nape of my neck. “Aster. Little Star. My light. My destination. I’m so fucking proud of you.”
I pressed my hands over his that were splayed over my stomach. “Together.”
“Together,” he rumbled back.
And I knew…knew everything would be all right.
THIRTY-EIGHT
ASTER
My phone buzzed on the island. I all but skipped over to where I’d left it. I got a full body buzz whenever I thought of Logan, which was basically every second of every day.
So, what if I was happy.
I deserved it.
We deserved it.
Was I terrified? Of course. We had so much to overcome. But we would do it.
Together.
We had to.
There was no other option.
After my conversation with my father two days ago, it’d been cemented. Courage had weaved its way into my fiber, knitting me into a ferocity that I’d never felt before.
The smile I wore completely shifted when I saw it wasn’t Logan texting me from the office but rather my sister returning mine from yesterday.
One that’d simply said, Miss you, which I’d sent with an undercurrent of a message that she needed to get somewhere private so we could talk.
Taylor: Hi. Are you good?
Me: Yes, are you? Call?
Taylor: Can’t. Hidden in a closet at the end of the hall. All stealth like.
Affection sprang into my chest. No doubt, she was thrilled by the scandalous mission.
Taylor: How are you?
I hesitated, warring with what to say, wishing we were normal and we could sit cross-legged on my bed and gossip about boys.
One day.
So I settled on simplicity.
Me: Safe.
Taylor: And well-fucked, I hope?
She had no idea.
Me: Taylor.
I filled as much of a reprimand as I could into her name.
Taylor: Aster.
I could almost see her pouty face as she tossed it right back.
A giggle slipped free, so I gave her a little more.
Me: I’m happy. Really happy.
Her response came in quickly behind.
Taylor: Mmhmm…nothing like some of that good D to make a girl happy.
She capped it with a winky face.
Me: You are ridiculous.
Taylor: Ridiculous and right. Admit it. I can feel your afterglow all the way down in Los Angeles.
Me: Fine.
That was as good as she was going to get.
Taylor: Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! I knew it!
Light laughter floated out, and I glanced around at the silent apartment. I didn’t know why it felt like this conversation had to be covert. I guessed it felt like an extension of what Taylor was going through. The truth that she was taking a risk by trying to help me. I’d put her in a bad spot, but I needed her help.
I hesitated, then let my fingers fly across the screen.
Me: Do you know anything about Papa having connections in Russia?