Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Robbie’s phone rings and he silences it, then types out a response and stands. “Gentlemen, I have a dinner date. I should have more for you tomorrow.”
“Just one more question. What’s the status of Blue’s father’s parole?”
“He’ll leave prison in two days.”
I nod gravely. “I’ll see you out,” Jericho says and leaves to walk Robbie to the door.
“Cut her loose,” Jericho says once he returns.
I’m helping myself to a tumbler of whiskey but stop mid-pour to turn to him. “What does that even mean?”
“Let her go. Give her the money she wants and get her out of the country. Hell, I’ll do it. I want her away from you. From my family.”
I sip my whiskey, anger tightening my gut, my chest as I study my brother. “I’ll tell you what, you take care of your family. I’ll take care of Blue.”
“See, that’s the problem,” he says, crossing to where I’m standing. “You don’t owe her anything. There’s nothing to handle. Cut her loose, Zeke. She’s trouble. I knew it from day one and so did you. You have killed two men for her. Two.”
I swallow my whiskey as Jericho pours himself one.
“She’s in danger. I’m not leaving her out there on her own. She is so far out of her league she stands no chance without me.”
“What do you owe this woman exactly? You want to fuck her? Fine. Be my guest. Fuck to your heart’s content.”
“I didn’t realize I needed your permission.”
“Take the night. Hell, take the week. Get her out of your system, pay her off and send her on her way.”
“Did you hear a word I said?”
“My wife’s arm was broken because of her. It could have been so much worse, Zeke!”
“And like I told you earlier, that was our fault. Not Blue’s. Blue never wanted to go to that event. She was scared. We should have been smarter about it.”
He studies me, eyes boring into me. Thing with my brother is, he knows me. And I hate that about him. He snorts. “Oh fuck me. Do not tell me you care about her. You can’t.”
“Because I’m not capable?” I know this about myself, but he has no right to say it.
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
“What did you mean then?” I ask, getting in his face.
“I don’t know how many fucking times you need to hear this before it gets through your thick skull, but she is not Zoë. Saving her will not bring our sister back.”
“You’re a fucking asshole, you know that? I know it won’t bring Zoë back. I know Zoë is long dead. This has nothing to do with Zoë. Nothing! Get that through your damn skull, Brother!”
Jericho steps away then turns back to me. “You know what, I’m leaving. I’m leaving before we both say things we don’t mean. Take my advice. Go upstairs and fuck her. Take care of that itch. We’ll talk then.”
“No, we won’t. Do not force me to choose.”
My brother opens his mouth, but before he says a word, he closes it. Reconsiders. I can almost see the machinations of his brain. Does he know something I don’t? Because I just threw that comment out there. But if it came down to it, would I truly choose Blue over my family?
“I’m going home to make sure my wife and kids are safe while I wait for you to get your head out of your ass.”
I don’t bother walking my brother out. Instead, I finish my whiskey and pour myself another. He wants me to cut her loose. I can’t do that for so many fucking reasons. I’m not leaving another helpless girl on her own against men too powerful to escape. But that’s not all. I am selfish. And I am greedy. I want her.
But I need to take care. I don’t want to hurt her, and I can’t give her what she wants. I’m not capable of that and I know it. So does my brother. Blue is the only one who doesn’t know.
Make love to me, she’d said. I can still see her face so clearly when she spoke those words. Still hear the plea in her voice. The meaning of those carefully chosen words.
Make love to me.
I swallow my whiskey and pour another.
Seeing her tonight in the kitchen, repeating her words back to her, that was my mercy. I saw her face. I saw how the words cut. But that cutting is my kindness. Because Blue is young, and she is innocent. And she may think herself in love with me, but I won’t allow it.
I won’t allow her to love a beast. A monster.
That’s not to say I will let her go. I can’t do that. Not now. The thought of it feels like an amputation. I won’t cut her loose and the reason for that is not only her safety. I can at least admit that.