Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 65116 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65116 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
“Nice?” My father was capable of saying something nice?
“He said you were a really good man. I should appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”
I’d taken a bullet for him, and he was still disappointed in me. But then he threw a curve ball like this. I’d never wanted to be a son who lived for his father’s approval, but that was exactly what I was doing. It somehow validated my sense of manhood…even though it shouldn’t. I was a much better man than he was because I never would have risked my wife’s safety in the first place. As I’d already proven, I took my wife’s protection seriously. My father became arrogant in his capabilities and gambled something he couldn’t afford to lose. “I’ve never heard him say anything like that to me…ever.”
“I was surprised too. Caught me off guard for a second. There was a gun sitting on the counter between us, and four of his men had their palms resting on their guns. He’d just chased off the customers who had been drinking in the bar, but then he told me to go home to you… It was odd.”
“Yeah…”
“Maybe he really is as straightforward as he seems. Maybe he does want to do the right thing for you by getting me home…but he also wants his revenge too. How can he want both at the same time? Beats me.”
Losing his wife sparked a mental illness he could never recover from. He was far too gone—and he wasn’t coming back. “I went to his house a few days ago. It’s easy for me to get access to him. I walked right into the living room with a gun stuffed in the back of my jeans, but I didn’t draw. I could have put a bullet in his brain, but I’d never pull the trigger. I tried once before and chickened out. Every time I see him, I chicken out again.”
“You aren’t chickening out.”
My arms rested on my knees, and I stared at the floor.
“Not killing your father doesn’t make you weak.”
“But he’s not my father.” I lifted my chin to meet her gaze. Even though the topic of conversation was dreadful, it was nice to talk to her again. “He’s another Kamikaze. He’s another enemy I have to dispose of.”
“But do you think he’d ever really hurt me? He had his chance but didn’t take it.”
That man was completely unpredictable. “I won’t underestimate him. You’re too valuable to make an assumption like that.”
It was the first time her eyes had softened in an entire month. “That means you’ll have to kill him.”
He was the last parent I had, and putting him in the ground seemed so wrong. He was my father, the man who gave me his last name. My wealth and connections came from his lineage. Putting a bullet between his eyes felt so wrong—but he didn’t give me another choice.
“Unless he has some kind of revelation.”
“Not gonna happen.”
“I don’t know… He did try to patch us up.”
That was a curve ball. “But he doesn’t know what happened.” I suspected if he did, his opinion wouldn’t change. Arwen should still be grateful she had me to take care of her. She should be grateful she had her own wolf for protection.
“I suspect his response would be the same.”
I rubbed my palms together before I leaned back in the chair. The gas fireplace emitted heat to the room, but it didn’t provide the spark and crackle of real flames like my fireplace did. It was a much quieter ambiance, a new renovation this old house had needed. Even if we didn’t say another word to each other, it was nice just to sit there together. Shadows of loneliness started to shroud me in depression. I’d never needed intimacy, but without Arwen, I was lost in the woods. I took it for granted when I shouldn’t have, and now I was the only one to blame. I’d managed to earn the love of a beautiful woman, but I hadn’t cherished it.
She turned her gaze on the fireplace and pulled her knees to her chest. It was almost ten in the evening, around the time when she used to fall asleep beside me. Her arms crossed over her chest, and she leaned her head back on the cushion of the couch.
With her gaze averted, I watched her. I watched the way her lips softened and parted slightly. I watched the way she tightened her clothing around her to keep warm even though I was right there. Her eyes grew heavy under the weight of fatigue, and that made her face more serene. When she was fired up and pissed about something, she was beautiful. But when she was subdued and calm like this…she was cute.
Cute wasn’t in my vocabulary, so I didn’t say it.