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)
“I could,” I say, pretending to consider it.
Awesome. Here we fucking go.
“Why don’t you see what Bruce’s company has open after the merger?” Ma stares at me intently. She’s not really asking and it’s definitely not for my own good. I don’t even know what turn this conversation is taking after thinking about all the ways I’d enjoy ripping off Delia’s panties and fucking her right on this table. “You know how much I worry. Especially after the last incident—that disgusting man was all over the news—and people got shot?”
“Nobody died,” I say coldly. “That’s the most important part.”
I stare at my food, trying like hell not to dwell on how close death came.
“Still, they keep sending you off to dangerous places, doing God only knows what... When you took the job, you told me you’d be protecting people.”
“And I do,” I clip. “Unless you think I shouldn’t have helped bring down a fuck who was so deep in trading twelve year olds, he makes Epstein look like a petty shoplifter.”
Bruce and Delia’s mouths drop.
Ma clears her throat loudly, her eyes wide with mock-concern. Her red-faced embarrassment has more to do with me shitting up her perfect dinner than any real care for those girls.
“Chris, you—Jesus. Evie said you’ve handled some rough cases, but I had no idea.” Bruce takes her hand, giving me a warm, sympathetic look.
It’s hard not to roll my eyes.
Hero worship comes easy with guys who think a morning jog outside their gated community is a dangerous adventure.
I’m sure if I asked him to hook me up with an easy security job tomorrow, he’d gladly agree to help turn hard-built muscle into office goo.
Maybe he cares to some degree. He seems like a decent guy, especially by Ma’s past dating standards.
I just know better than to trust anything she says without diving deep for ulterior motives.
It’s a miracle I survived the reckless, negligent shit she put me through in my teen years.
I didn’t have a choice, though. Not when I had to find discipline and purpose and sanity outside the house.
Sometimes I wonder if it’s guilt eating at her, but that seems like wishful thinking, imagining Evangeline Triton could sprout a conscience.
Mostly, I don’t give a damn.
She’s tried slithering back into my life ever since I was discharged and joined Enguard, bringing her venom, her drama, her brutal flaws. I would have gotten a call about her being found dead on the floor if I hadn’t come back last year to drag her into rehab.
“No one’s questioning your heart, son,” she says sharply. “I just wish you’d let go. Let yourself have a normal life. Don’t you want a family someday?”
My jaw tightens.
Family? Talk about a loaded fucking word.
I feel Delia’s intense gaze on my face before my eyes flick over, chasing her glance away.
“No. My life and my choice,” I growl, blotting at my lips with a cloth napkin. “You know I’m not cut out to be a cubicle rat. I’m happy where I’m at. I can make a real difference helping people doing what I do.”
I can save kids from the kind of hellish, warped existence you put me through or worse, I don’t say. My eyes bead with more anger with every passing second I stare at my mother.
Danger, I can manage.
“I know what I signed up for. Spare me the worry. I could’ve used it ten years ago when I was just a kid trying to keep you sober,” I tell her, my voice an icicle. “Now, it’s wasted breath.”
I’m annoyed at how hot my blood runs.
The usual fury that boils up whenever I try to reason with this woman, much less tell her to fuck off.
Delia bites her cheek anxiously.
For once I’m too distracted to dwell on her mouth.
My whole world condenses into Ma’s biting gaze. It’s so pleading, still trying to shape me into the selfless son I tried so hard to be once—until one day, I couldn’t anymore.
“But Christopher...” She pauses, tightening her grip on Bruce’s until her knuckles look bone-white. “Everybody at this table has a chance to start over. It’s not too late to be weighed down by our pasts. Look at me. I’ve sorted out my life. I’m so much better. I’m ready to be a wife again. And you, you’ve given so much to your country—to these poor clients of yours. Don’t you want to just draw the line somewhere? Forgive me, I didn’t mean to gush like this, but I just—”
I snort loudly, cutting her off.
Excuses, excuses.
Empty ones I’ve heard too many times.
I fling my napkin on my plate and bang my empty glass down so hard Delia jumps.
“Is this why you really brought me here tonight, Ma? To talk me out of my own life?” I cock my head. “I should’ve known there was an ambush coming. No one believes in this perfect little family act you’ve thrown up—least of all you.”