Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 109178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
“Was this durin’ the time I knew you? Like, before or after?”
“Right before. That’s one of the reasons I was workin’ there. To get out of the spotlight. Start over. I was an angry young man, Nadia. Mad at the world. I was mad that my mother was gone. Mad at God. I was mad at my father for other shit that would take too long to explain right now. I just wanted to fight the whole world.”
“Who asked you to do this?”
“Some rich kid needed help. He paid me a lot, and I did it. I only got caught because his dumb ass was bragging about it later. He got confronted by the police all that time later after I did the kill-for-hire job, and sang like a bird. Threw me all the way under the damn bus. At least that’s what the police told my father.”
“Damn… like, how did you feel about doing something like that?”
“I didn’t feel anything at all. As sick as it sounds, it was like a relief. I wanted to murder something. Make somethin’ bleed. The guy I killed I found out wasn’t a good person no way, but that still didn’t make it right for me to do it. The relief was short-lived, too. I needed some healing, and that wasn’t the way to go about it. It took me years to get right in my head, and in my heart. Normal therapy didn’t work, so, I started reading. I started workin’ on myself. I found a couple of people that could help me. That could relate. Someone to talk to, that had walked in my shoes. God gave me these hands, Nadia. I’m strong, but the Devil made me use ’em. That made me weak. I can use them to hurt people real fuckin’ bad, or I can use them to help. Like bodybuilding, and building things. Or giving a hug, maybe helping someone up when they fall. Or maybe, offer some healin’ by touchin’ a woman in just the right way.”
She looked at his big hands… his nails were cut evenly, his knuckles large, and the tops of his hands were covered with veins and old scars.
“These hands had the honor of touching one of the most precious jewels I’ve ever seen. You.” Her cheeks warmed. “I wasn’t even supposed to touch you that night while you danced on that stage, but you let me. I saw how you quickly waved the security guard away when he tried to approach as I put my hands around you while you were performing. You gave up control and handed it over to me… because you want to trust me. With all that I am, even confessing to you the terrible thing I did, you still trust me, ’cause after all these years, you know my heart.”
She hung her head. “I am scared. A lot has happened. I don’t trust men, and I barely trust myself when it comes to y’all.” It was hard to let the words come out. To let him hear them with all the disappointment and pain bubbling forth within her. She turned away from his scrutiny, feeling judged and loved all at once.
“It’s okay to admit that you’re scared, Nadia. Shit, I didn’t put much thought into settling down, either, until I decided to grow the hell up. What solidified it though was when I saw you again. I told you I literally asked God for help, then saw you less than twenty-four hours later. I don’t look a gift woman in the mouth… Ain’t nothin’ else I can do with you ’cept make you mine. The writing is on the wall, and the signs all point straight to heaven. Ain’t your middle name Heaven?” She nodded, surprised he remembered that. “Well then, ain’t nowhere else to go but up.”
“Lennox, you’ve made your intentions clear. I think it’s also clear that I’m interested now. I’m entertaining you after all, but I have some questions for you.”
“Ask me anything you want.”
“…This open book of yours. What’s in chapter one?” She hugged herself a bit tighter.
“Chapter one would be my parents. They’re the genesis. My father’s side of the family was considered basically White trash back in the 1940s. That all changed once my grandfather was about twenty-three years old, and got some land. He was smart, self-educated. A business tycoon. He worked under some important people. Learned a thing or two, and applied it to building his own company. That company grew into other ones. Those were legit businesses, until they weren’t anymore.” His eyes darkened and narrowed. “Grandpa Wilde built an empire and married beautiful women to hang on his arm like trophies. Had a bunch of children with most of them.
“My father is the product of one of those marriages, and he’s wealthy because of him. My father was selected to help run the business because he has a head for numbers, and knows how to keep his mouth shut. He’s loyal to a fault.”