Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 95552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
“What do you mean?” This isn’t what I came here to learn, but I don’t care. I’m getting another sort of education.
“Once you understand every threat, once you know the worst that could happen to you, nothing can surprise you. There are moments, especially in a fight, when you’re face-to-face with somebody who knows they’ll either have to kill you or be killed—when a split second of indecision or surprise can make all the difference. If nothing surprises you, you have the advantage.”
I can sort of understand, though I doubt the brutality I’ve experienced will prepare me for the future. How could it?
On the other hand, now I know better than to blindly trust anyone, ever. Even the friendliest smile can conceal a dagger. Maybe he has a point.
“Did you have to do a lot of fighting?”
“I needed to survive, and the high stakes meant a large payday. At the time, I had little choice.” He doesn’t sound regretful. I guess when you do what needs to be done to survive, there’s no room for regret.
It’s astonishing how my outlook has changed since I’ve been here. Months ago, I would have been horrified at the idea of sitting in the same room with somebody who used to fight to the death for money. Now, I’m finding it easier to put myself in his shoes.
And I’m so glad I asked about self-defense lessons. I’d much rather learn from Lucas than from Quan, anyway. I just never imagined Lucas would volunteer.
When Lucas’s desk phone rings this time, he growls. “This is ridiculous.” Yet when I move to get up, he shakes his head to stop me. “I’ll put an end to it. Don’t worry.”
All I know is, I wouldn’t want to be the person on the other end of the line when he answers. “What?” he barks. I have to remind myself not to shrink back in my chair.
When his face falls an instant before he turns away, I can’t help but wrap my arms around myself. Something is very wrong. Immediately, my mind goes to Quinton. What if it’s something about him? Maybe Scarlet is in trouble or Ella. After they were so kind to me, it would cut me like a knife if anything bad happened.
Not to mention the way it would crush Quinton. I couldn’t handle that.
“Thank you.” Yet Lucas doesn’t hang up the receiver right away, standing with his back to me, lowering the receiver until it hangs at his side.
Finally, I can’t take it. “What’s wrong?” I whisper over the lump in my throat.
His shoulders rise and fall before he turns, replacing the receiver. “That was one of my associates.” He’s not looking at me. Why isn’t he looking at me?
“It’s something bad, isn’t it?” He sighs but offers no reply. “Please. Tell me. Remember what you just said about facing things so you’re not surprised by them. I can face it.”
Finally, his eyes meet mine, and I know right away that this is going to be bad.
“I am very sorry to have to tell you this,” he begins in a tight voice, “but there’s been a report from the prison where your father served his sentence.”
Served. Past tense. This can’t be real.
“Evidently, there was an attack.” His forehead creases, his lips pulling downward at the corners. “And your father was killed.”
Every last bit of air in my lungs rushes out of me all at once. He hasn’t laid a finger on me, but he may as well have kicked me square in the stomach. For one brief, terrifying moment, I’m sure I’ll never be able to take another breath. My body is going to shut down because my brain is shutting down. Not Dad. Please, no.
But I do breathe, and though it couldn’t have taken more than a split second to inhale, it feels like a lifetime. Instead of going gray around the edges, the world rushes back to me in full color. Even though I wish it wouldn’t.
“Aspen.” The next thing I know, Lucas is crouched in front of me, searching my face with concern in his eyes. “Keep breathing.”
“They beat him?” I manage. I’m going to be sick. I just know it. I’ve hated him so many times for what he did, for how he ruined our lives, but at the same time, I still loved him. He was still my dad. I always knew he didn’t mean to ruin me.
“Honestly, I didn’t get details.”
“But he’s dead? For sure?”
“I’m afraid so.” He touches my hand, shocking me. I yank it back like his touch burns, and all he does is nod slowly. “I understand. Nobody around here has made their feelings about your father's secret. I’m sure my sympathy falls flat after what you’ve been through.”
My head bobs up and down. That’s all I can do. My mind doesn’t want to wrap around it, and my heart certainly doesn’t, but that doesn’t make it any less real.