Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 162003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 810(@200wpm)___ 648(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 810(@200wpm)___ 648(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
Misery and bliss wrestled inside of me at the silent admission, and I choked out my release, spilling it across my abs like I was sixteen years old again. Pitiful. Even my cock thought so. My hand was a poor imitation of her.
I needed my light. I needed to know she was okay.
I rolled over to check my phone, and as promised, Mick had texted me every hour on the hour. There wasn’t anything to report. I sent Brighton a text.
I didn’t expect an answer. I never got one.
The nights were the worst of it. Not having her close, her heart beating a rhythmic tattoo across my chest. I was supposed to protect her, but instead, I’d been the one to hurt her. I couldn’t stop the horrific events of that night from playing through my mind. The fear and betrayal on her face and the stinging realization on mine. There was no forgiveness for what I’d done. I knew that. I would never forgive myself.
But this wasn’t about forgiveness. It wasn’t just want for her, it was a vital need. She was the only antidote for the bleakness that lived inside of me. My goddess. My deity. I wasn’t a believer in any religion, but I’d make an exception in this case. I’d get down on my knees and worship at her alter every day if it brought her back to me.
I couldn’t take no for an answer. A better man would have. I had no claims on such titles. Causing her pain had never stopped me before. It was part of the process. I’d dole it out, and she’d accept.
This was a different kind of pain, I’d admit it. A whole different animal. So I’d indulge her some space. For now. It was generous for me. She didn’t grasp how the weight of my sins crushed my chest with every passing hour. How without her, there’d never be absolution.
Brighton saw the good in everyone. She saw good in me too. I’d believe for her sake it was true, lest my darkness swallow us both whole.
I still had Brayden to compete with. There weren’t enough choice words in my vocabulary to describe the many feelings I had about his weak and tarnished soul. But I wouldn’t ever lay a hand on him again. For Brighton’s sake.
She wouldn’t believe it, but there wasn’t even a question about it at this point. What happened that night couldn’t be undone, but it had undone something. I’d promptly realized I was far more selfish than could be considered purposeful. Five years of planning went out the window in the presence of five minutes of her pain. Thoughts of family and revenge forgotten I’d learned there was something I wanted more. And I almost lost it that night through my own careless actions.
I’ve washed my hands of evil plotting. As much as I liked to hand out punishments, I wasn’t too proud to receive them when warranted. I shouldn’t have tried to kill her mom and brother, maybe. I’d even felt the tiniest flicker of regret if you can believe it. You probably don’t, but who the hell gives a shit?
Brayden was digging his own grave, anyway. Back in Chicago, he’d hooked up with the usual shady contacts. Did you expect anything more from an ex-con? Okay, let me rephrase that. Did you expect anything more from the son of Frank Gallo?
I sure as hell didn’t.
Still, I wondered if Brighton knew what he was up to. Or if she’d sent him to the same special purgatory that was reserved for me. Silence.
I only hoped Brayden didn’t go digging up old dirt. Nothing good could come of that. Frankie’s associates had been well and truly paid off, but I trusted them about as much as I believed in unicorns. What they did to Brayden was of little consequence to me, but if they ever came after Brighton, they’d have a different beast to contend with.
I was the son of Michael Lockhart, but there were vast differences between him and I. Unlike Michael, I wasn’t afraid to protect the woman I loved. I’d single-handedly go to war and burn their whole organization to the ground before I ever let them harm what was mine. And there were no two ways about it- Brighton would always be mine.
Chapter Four
Brighton
We’d spent the weekend moving.
And by moving, I meant Nicole’s stuff. Because I’d left all of my meager belongings at Ryland’s. Nicole was nice enough to let me borrow her clothes in the meantime, but that wasn’t going to work forever. My belly had already grown, and soon I would need some real maternity clothes.
I bought a second hand sewing machine on Craigslist for that very purpose. It wasn’t a Singer, but I would take what I could get. Nicole and I continued to work on our project, and it was quickly expanding into something even bigger than I could have ever imagined. Once Nicole put her mind to something, she was truly unstoppable.