Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
His eyes narrow, which makes me turn to look at her more closely.
Dark curly brown hair. Crystal blue eyes. Dimples in her cheeks.
Fuck. It’s a mini-Marek standing there in a little white dress!
Gracen brushes between Marek and me to reach the little girl. She bends over and kisses her on the head. “Okay, baby. I’ll be right out. Tell Aunt Bev I just need five more minutes.”
The little girl rolls her eyes and grumbles, “That’s what you said the last time.”
“I know,” Gracen says as she turns her toward the door and gives her a little push out. “But I promise this time. Five minutes.”
Gracen shuts the door but doesn’t turn to face us. Her head bows and her shoulders hunch in defeat.
“Is that…is that…” Marek stutters, unable to actually form the words that could put into reality something he’s not ready to really hear.
Lifting her head and turning to face Marek, Gracen says, “Your daughter? Yes.”
Every bit of blood drains out of Marek’s face and the blue in his eyes goes flat. His jaw drops, and for a moment I think he might pass out. But then the hothead I know surfaces, and his eyes turn almost red with rage.
“That’s my fucking daughter?” he hisses at her, and it’s done with such fury that Gracen shrinks back until the door stops her. “I have a fucking daughter and you never thought to fucking tell me?”
Marek takes a step toward her and I honestly don’t know what he’ll do, so I jump between them. I put my palms to his chest and give him a little shove back. “You need to dial it back, buddy. Before you do something stupid.”
He’s not dissuaded and he merely leans his head to the right to look past me. He points an accusing finger at her and I notice it’s shaking. “There is no good reason that bitch should have kept that secret. I had a right to know.”
Jesus, this is fucking whacked. I don’t even know what to say, because Marek did have a right to know.
But his outrage apparently prompts Gracen to her own fury. She pushes her way right in between us and pushes Marek in the chest. My arms fall away and I stand poised ready to break up what could turn into a physical fight.
“You have no right to stand up there on a pedestal, Marek Fabritis, and act like you’ve been wronged,” she yells at him furiously. Her face is beet red and her eyes are filled with tears. She blinks once and they fall, and she rubs at them with the backs of her hands as she continues. “You left me. You didn’t want a relationship with me, and in case you have forgotten, your exact words, you asshole, were, ‘I don’t want the responsibility of a relationship. I don’t want to have to take care of someone other than myself right now.’ So I took what you said at face value, you smug, self-righteous prick, and I made a decision not to let my daughter’s heart get broken by a daddy who didn’t want the responsibility.”
I cringe internally over those last words, and Marek seems to deflate, taking a step back from Gracen as he looks at her almost blankly.
Gracen on the other hand is still red with fury and her chest is heaving with indignation while tears continue to course down her face.
“What’s her name?” Marek asks so softly I can barely hear him.
Now it’s Gracen who deflates, and she looks like she could just melt into the floor with exhaustion. Still, her voice is stronger than Marek’s when she answers, “Lilly.”
“Lilly,” he murmurs to himself, as if testing the weight of it on his tongue.
All three of us jolt when the door flies open, and this time there’s a hulking bear of a guy standing there who I’m going to guess by the tuxedo is Gracen’s fiancé. He’s as tall as Marek and me but twice as thick, especially in his belly area. Still, it looks like if a fight were to break out, he could get some good punches in before Marek could take him down.
And I’ve seen Marek on the ice. The fucker fights with uncontrolled fury.
“What the hell is going on, Gracen?” the guy asks as his eyes lock on to Marek with clear distaste. “Lilly said there were two men here in the room, and everyone in the church is waiting.”
There is no mistaking the clear condescension in his voice as he talks “down” to Gracen, and I know in that instant Marek is right. This guy is a patronizing dickhead.
Gracen doesn’t respond, but brings one hand up to her forehead where she rubs the bridge of her nose. I guarantee you she’s sporting a massive stress headache right now.
“Get your shit, Gracen,” Marek says with quiet command. “Get Lilly. You’re both coming with me.”