Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 69905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Bartholomew lowered himself into the armchair a moment later then helped himself to a drink. An extra glass was there, so he filled it halfway then got comfortable, one boot against the edge of the coffee table.
He was so quiet I forgot he was there after a couple minutes.
“Benton.”
My eyes left the fire and moved to his face instead.
“Doing alright?”
I took a drink.
“How’s Claire?”
“What do you want, Bartholomew?” My glass became empty, and I left it on the cushion beside me, a single cube still at the bottom. I had to cut myself off because I couldn’t be a drunk instead of a father.
“To see how you’re doing.”
“How I’m doing…” I gave a subtle nod. “My daughter hates me because I won’t get her back, and the only woman who’s ever meant a damn thing to me is in hell…and there’s nothing I can do about it. That’s how I’m doing.”
He set his glass aside and sat there.
I went back to ignoring him.
“Benton.”
I gave an angry sigh before I looked at him. “If you think sitting here is making me feel better, you’re wrong. Nothing will make me feel better. Now, piss off.”
His face was as hard as the foundation homes were built on. “Let’s get her back.”
My eyes narrowed.
“We can do it.”
“What the fuck are you saying?”
His eyes remained still, unblinking, emotionless. “I’m saying, let’s go to the godforsaken camp and get your woman back. Let’s kill that freak. Let’s kill all the freaks. Let’s set it on fire so the forest smells like burning flesh. That’s what I’m saying, Benton.”
Now I took his words with a grain of salt. “You’ll do anything to get me to come back…”
He gave a subtle shake of his head. “You don’t owe me anything, Benton.”
“I’m not stupid.”
“You are. Because I just offered this to you freely, and you still won’t take it.”
“Nothing is free when it comes to you. If you think I’m going to feel indebted to you and return of my own free will, you’ll be disappointed.”
“That’s not what I expect. That’s not what I want.”
“Then what do you want? Because you don’t do anything out of the goodness of your heart. There’s always an angle. There’s always a reason. Tell me what it is.”
He looked away for a while, his gaze on the fire. “Your friendship…that’s what it is.”
I stared at the side of his face.
“If you let me redeem myself, then maybe there’s a chance.” When I didn’t say anything, he turned back to me, his gaze still cold as if his heart wasn’t in the conversation, as if he didn’t just put himself out there to be rejected once again.
“I can’t risk Claire.”
“Ask Bleu to take her away. Not to tell a soul where he’s going. When it’s safe for him to return, we’ll leave a message on the answering service. He’ll call and check in every day, and when he hears that message, he knows it’s safe to return. We’ll keep this between the three of us so there are no leaks.”
“Is this just you and me? Or is this the Chasseurs?”
“It’s whatever you want, Benton. We can discuss the logistics.”
“You’d be declaring war—which you said you wanted to avoid at all costs.”
He shook his head. “It’s not war. It’s an annihilation. Big difference.”
My daughter was my soul, and I didn’t want to risk her, not for anything. And I didn’t want to risk myself either because that would mean she’d grow up without me, that she wouldn’t have me to protect her.
But I had to get my woman back.
“Why didn’t you tell her?” he asked.
“Tell who what?”
“When you said goodbye. She said she loved you, and you didn’t say it back.”
I held his gaze, surprised he’d heard her whisper that to me.
He waited for an answer.
“‘I love you’ and ‘Goodbye’ should never be in the same sentence—at least, not the first time you say it.”
“I know it’s a lot to ask.”
Bleu sat across from me at the dining table, Claire in her room because she took off the second she finished eating. She wanted nothing to do with me, could barely tolerate me being in the same room with her. I had a seven-year-old last week, but now I had an angry teenager instead.
It was hard, but I didn’t let it bother me. It was temporary, and I understood why she was upset. She missed Constance, and that feeling had manifested into anger. She was just like me—because I did the same thing.
Bartholomew sat on the opposite side of the table, nursing his glass in silence. It was one of the few times I all three of us were in the same room.
Bleu held his silence for a long time. “It is a lot to ask, Benton.”
“But you’re all I have. I need you to do this for me.”