Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 82060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
It had been a while.
Over two years.
“But I understand why he does it,” he continued. “And Toni doesn’t agree, but I think you should know what there is to know so you can maybe find your way to understand it too.”
“He’s protecting us,” I whispered.
“Yeah,” he said.
“He’s a drug dealer.” I was still whispering.
“Yeah,” he grunted.
“He had a scholarship to Yale,” I told him.
“Yeah. And it takes four years to get through college, and even longer to get sorted in life. And he might have had a scholarship, but his dad hadn’t been allowed to live a long enough life to set up his family like they needed if he wasn’t around. They didn’t have the money to send him to Yale, because you can have a full ride, but it still takes money to be across the country at a university. They also didn’t have the money to continue to live the life they’d been living. Darius had to step up. Darius had to look after his mom and sisters. He was a teenager. He got offered what he thought was an easy way to do that, and he took it. I don’t blame him. Straight up, in that situation, I can see myself doing the same damned thing.”
Straight up, I could too. Tony. Me. Anybody, really.
You didn’t have the luxury of defending the high ground when food needed to be put on the table.
I looked away and took a sip of my wine.
“Lee Nightingale got honorably discharged. He’s back in town.”
My head whipped around to him.
“And Eddie Chavez is a maverick cop, but he gets the job done better than nearly everyone. It’s all rumors, but those rumors say he’s got an inside guy. This puts Darius out there, but it’s him doin’ the right thing.”
“They’re trying to pull him out,” I breathed.
“They’re trying to remind him who he really is. Lee in town again, I don’t think it’s gonna take very long.”
Oh. My. God.
“What I’m sayin’ is, don’t lose hope, Malia. Let the man do what he’s gotta do. If I had to steer clear of Toni and Talia, it’d kill me. But if it meant it kept them safe, I’d suffer a thousand deaths. It’s killing him, but he still isn’t dead. You get me?”
I nodded.
I got him.
He took me in, decided I did indeed get him, then he got up and moved to the armchair.
After he settled in, he shouted, “When’s dinner? I’m hungry!”
Talia toddled out and shouted back, “Daddy!”
Tony grinned and winked at me.
I didn’t have it in me to smile back.
I was holding on to hope.
With everything I had.
* * * *
I opened my front door and stopped dead.
Someone was in the house.
And I could smell…
Paint.
My heart tripping in my chest, my mind whirring, I forgot all about grabbing the book Liam called to tell me he forgot for school and marched up the stairs, straight to my son’s room.
They knew I was there. I knew it when I stood in the doorway and stared at them staring at me.
Darius, Lee and Eddie.
My son’s Transformer décor was in boxes in the hallway. His furniture had plastic over it. The walls were mostly painted a pretty, but masculine, blue. And there was a plethora of Target and Dillard’s bags outside, not to mention a queen mattress resting up against the wall and a new, dismantled bedframe still bound in its delivery protective wrap leaned against it.
Where Liam’s twin bed was, I didn’t know. Just his dresser and desk were under the plastic wrap.
I ignored Eddie and Lee, looked to Darius, and ordered, “My room. Now.”
I also ignored Eddie and Lee glancing at each other, lips quirking.
I marched to my bedroom.
I stood, holding the door, until Darius walked through it.
I slammed it behind him.
“So, five years, you’ve still been letting yourself in and checking things out,” I said with false calm.
“Malia, he’s growing up, and he’s got a little kid room. He’s gotta have a growing man’s room.”
“So you decided just to show up with your buds and make that happen without speaking to me?”
“It’s been a while,” he said cautiously, “so I see I gotta remind you that me stayin’ away—”
“Fuck that!” I shouted.
His brows drew low. “Calm down,” he growled.
“Fuck calm too,” I retorted. “You can’t waltz in here and give your boy everything he wants—”
“Wrong,” he bit off and stabbed a finger at the wall through which, beyond the guest bedroom and the upstairs bathroom was our son’s room. “Seein’ as that’s what I’m doing right fuckin’ now.”
“You made the decision it was nothing but envelopes and cash and no promises,” I reminded him. “That wasn’t me.”
“It was the hardest decision I’ve made in my goddamned life.”
“Seems like it was easy to me.”
“Yeah?” he grunted, eyes flashing with rage.
“Yeah,” I replied fake easily, swinging a hand out in front of me for good measure, then settling it on my hip.