Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 62056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
“You helped me once, and I need you to continue to help me, Charlotte. Our family depends on you. Don’t abandon us.”
I can’t stand this guilt-tripping, so I lower the phone and stare at it for a few seconds.
Father is still shouting on the other end of the line. “I swear to God, Charlotte, I will find you. Whatever it takes! I won’t fucking stop until I’ve found you, you hear me?”
Instead of saying another word, I press the cancel button and end the call.
My father’s words have left me in shambles. That entire news broadcast was a farce, a ploy to get me to call them so he could force me to tell him where I am. My brother wasn’t even close to dying, and my father used his situation as an opportunity to get me back … And worst of all, I feel guilty for not telling him.
Guilty for leaving Easton.
Guilty … for knowing my father could die because of me.
My hand is on my chest, fingers squeezing my skin, digging for something, anything, but I feel hollow inside. Even though my heart thrums in my throat, I’m devoid of emotions. The tears that once streamed have stopped and are replaced with a vapid emptiness on my face. All I can do is stare at the wall in front of me, wishing it would all stop.
Suddenly, a hand touches my shoulder, and I’m instantly pulled back into reality.
“Are you okay?” Deion’s standing right behind me, but when I turn my head to glance at him, he walks in front of me and grabs both my shoulders. “You look upset. What’s going on? Did something happen?”
“I … had to call my family,” I mutter, desperately trying to keep it all together without spilling my guts to him. I don’t want to pull him into this. Involving him would only make this more dangerous than it already is. Just being here means he’s in danger … and Ashanti too.
“Charlotte, was that your brother?” he suddenly asks.
My lips part, but I can’t answer without giving everything away and making him part of this problem too.
“It is, isn’t it? That man on the television was your brother. That’s who you were calling,” he says. “You’re a Davis.”
I shake my head and close my eyes, desperately wanting it to be a lie.
But it isn’t.
“Yes.”
Admitting that has never been more painful than it is now.
I am a Davis. I was born a Davis, and I will always be a Davis … until I die.
And him knowing this means he’s a threat to my father too.
And any man who’s a threat to my father doesn’t live long to tell the tale.
Chapter 7
Easton
Staring out the living room window, I note the overgrown pond and hedges. I should call the gardener and tell him to do a better job. Maybe I should fire him and hire a new one. After all, if one can’t do one’s job properly, then why have a job at all?
Then again, the same applies to the man who lost the bond to his loan. The girl he exchanged for money to a ruthless son of a bitch who is now in some other man’s hands.
The thought alone makes me clench my fists. If anyone should be fired, it’s me.
Suddenly, my phone rings, and I immediately pick it up, hoping for news. “Yes?”
“She took the bait.” It’s Davis.
“Tell me what happened,” I reply.
“My son broke his foot, and I used the opportunity to spin some lies toward the press, and voila … It came on the news, and when she watched, she called him right away.”
“Do you have the location?” I interrupt.
“No, we’re working on it,” he says.
Dammit.
“But I do have the number. I’m having it traced to the owner right now,” he adds.
“Good,” I say. “Tell me when you have a name and an address.”
Davis clears his throat. “I can handle this, Easton.”
I narrow my eyes. What is he getting at? “Don’t overdo it, old man. You tell me the moment you find out more. Got it?”
“She’s my daughter. I know how to find her and make her come back.”
“Don’t do anything stupid,” I hiss. “I paid for her, and she’s mine, goddammit. You hear me?”
He chortles. “I’m not a fool, Easton. I know what’s at stake here.”
“Your. Life …” I growl.
“I’ll bring her back to you, don’t fucking worry,” he says with a bitter undertone.
“I don’t want you to even touch her. You tell me exactly when you have the address and then do nothing. Understand? I will be the one to get her back.”
He’s silent for a few seconds. “I trust that by finding her, my debt will remain paid?”
“Yes,” I reply.
Then he hangs up the phone.
No promises. Nothing.
Something in my gut tells me this isn’t going to go over so well.