Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 141281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
The same pale-green eyes that are too much like mine flare.
She’s pissed that I’m not more rattled.
She lives to trigger me, to make me scream and lash out.
I’m sure she’s not above provoking me into a domestic disturbance.
Yeah, fuck that. I’m not taking the bait.
I also won’t let her see that it’s taking all my focus to hold it together, to avoid shoving past her with Delia over my shoulder, heading straight to my truck so we can leave this asylum forever.
I hate that my girl looks cornered, her arms folded awkwardly to hold that shredded dress together.
When Ma doesn’t get her way, it’s never pretty.
She lunges first, her hand darting out, and she slaps me across the face so hard my ears ring.
It barely stings compared to what I’ve been through on missions, but the sound resonates through me like an explosion, threatening to turn everything I’ve built with my girl to ash.
I hear Delia sniffle, sense her reaching up with her free hand to wipe her eyes.
The urge to throw my own mother through the wall headfirst has never been stronger.
“Hit me again, and you’re going away in handcuffs. I’ll have the cops here in a heartbeat,” I bite off. Every last thread of my self-control is dangling in those words.
“Sure you will, you dickless little shit. You’re just like your father, after all. Not man enough to deal with me without someone else in the way.” She huffs and looks at the ground for a second before our eyes lock again. “You’re such an embarrassment, Christopher. You think you’re smarter than everybody else, Mr. Man? Including the woman who regrets ever squeezing you out? You think bouncing around playing big-shot SEAL means everybody should worship the ground you walk on, including this slut?”
Evie gestures at Delia with one bright-green fingernail aimed like a sword.
I swear, if she moves any closer, I’ll break it the fuck off.
I’m a human coil, wound up and ready to strike.
Still, violence won’t solve anything except delivering exactly what she wants.
So I do the only thing I can.
I turn, squeeze Delia tight, and cradle her to my chest.
All the pain and shock inside her comes ripping out.
My eyes search hers with an apology.
Baby, I’m so fucking sorry.
I push my fingers through her hair, stroking her brow, forming a human wall between the psycho hellbent on ruining us.
“So that’s it? Switch on the waterworks and hope I’ll change my mind? Pathetic. Pathetic and so typical. You’ve got about—hmmm...” Evie pauses like she’s checking the time. “Three hours until Bruce gets home. Better start packing. I’d get the hell out while you can, boy. I’d tell you to bring the girlfriend, but something tells me there isn’t room for her wherever you’re going.”
My hand forms a fist.
I hate that she fucking knows I’m cornered, even if she’s clueless about my cartel dilemma.
Bringing Delia anywhere else isn’t an option while I’m a marked man.
“Never mind the poor dear being a fish out of water without her creature comforts,” Evie continues. “Somehow, I don’t think she’s ready to be without her father’s riches and no man. She knows it’s just a matter of time until you leave her high and dry and—”
“Evangeline... Shut. Up!” Delia peels herself away from me as the words come tearing out of her.
Before I can stop her, she surges forward, puts her hands on my mother’s shoulders, and pushes her so hard she rocks back.
“Why are you such a bitter, contrary piece of crap? Seriously? Is it because you can’t stay sober or were you just a shitty person before you ever snorted your first hit?”
Oh, fuck.
I’ve never seen Delia like this, and I’m reminded she’s in no state to handle my lunatic mother properly.
I’m ready to throw myself between them, expecting Ma to fight back, probably with punches.
Instead, she just straightens herself primly and smooths down her skirt, wearing the same freakishly calm smile on her lips.
Sonofabitch.
I wonder what’s in her system right now that gives her this cruel, otherworldly focus.
“Dearies, I haven’t had so much as a few drinks since leaving rehab. I’m completely sober. That’s what’s so amazing about this—for the first time in years, I see clearly. And I can see how insane and disgraceful this—this thing between you is. You’re both confused. Someone has to put a stop to it. It’s taken me a long time to save myself, and now I’ll save my family too.”
It’s so goddamned eye-rolling I almost go blind.
So, she’s in her lying, manic phase today, up on her high horse, ready to lop off everybody else’s heads to feed her insatiable ego.
“Oh, and Cordelia, if you ever put your hands on me again, Christopher won’t be the only one calling the cops,” she says with a cruel smirk. “I thought you were a nice girl, but you don’t know when to quit, do you? Haven’t you done enough damage by fucking your own stepbrother and destroying your father’s fragile psyche? Do you really want to make him pick you up from jail, too?”