Total pages in book: 225
Estimated words: 218500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1093(@200wpm)___ 874(@250wpm)___ 728(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 218500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1093(@200wpm)___ 874(@250wpm)___ 728(@300wpm)
“Very good,” Carson replies.
“Thanks for your help this morning, Carson.” I say.
He smiles. “My pleasure. Always.”
He, as usual, pulled out all the stops when I called him to ask him to assist me in making things happen quickly with the marriage license, with everything else I needed to organize for today.
I kiss my sister on the cheek, clap my brother on the back and say, “Means a lot you came. Thanks, Joe.” I squeeze his shoulder.
“Congrats again,” Jonah replies, “Welcome to the family, Chloe. It’s even crazier than it seems.”
Grace and Jonah exchange glances that I’m not sure about, until it dawns that I gave them affection, which they’re not used to from me.
Chloe’s mouth twitches in the beginnings of an attempt at a smile at Jonah’s joke, but it doesn’t follow through. She looks beyond shaken up.
“See you when you get back,” Grace says. “Where are you off to?”
“It’s a surprise for Chloe,” I say.
“Ah, well have a wonderful time. Congratulations.” She squeezes Chloe’s hand and steps back, looking pensive. She doesn’t know Chloe’s here because three of her friends are being held at gunpoint, but she does sense that Chloe’s not happy. And even if she hadn’t been there for the Saturday breakfast or the Sunday brunch, she’d still know something isn’t right with Chloe. My sister is observant.
I know Grace wants everything to be perfect at all times. She’s worried about this. She’ll be a good friend to her, she’ll focus on her instead of me for a change, maybe.
“It’s all good,” I assure my sister who smiles hesitantly before hugging me, saying, “Congratulations, big bro. I hope it’s as perfect as you’re expecting it to be.”
“It will be,” I assure, then grab my bride’s hand and whisk her to the waiting limo, wave Neil aside, and hold the door open for her myself.
She climbs inside.
Once the door is shut, I lean over and kiss her again.
“You’re mine,” I tell her. “I’m so fucking happy.”
She stares at me with a difficult-to-read expression.
“What is it, baby?” I ask, cupping her cheek.
Her nostrils flare and by the rise and fall of her chest, the tautness of her shoulders, I know she’s trying hard to maintain composure.
“Let,” she whispers, “Them…” She swallows. “Go,” she finishes.
“Ah. Yes. Not a problem.” I pull my phone out and call Detective Steven Benson as we pull away.
“Mr. Steele,” he greets.
“Benson. All good now. Let Alannah and Hallman go after giving Alannah a warning to do nothing else. Tell her she’ll hear from us when we get back on Saturday. Have a good, long conversation with Jenkins before you cut him loose. Make sure he’s fully briefed on protocol for Chloe, myself, and the others from here on out. He’s now in. Make sure he understands.”
“On it,” he says.
There was a time when Detective Benson was resistant to being in our inner circle, too.
I end the call and turn to my wife.
“In?” she whispers.
A smile spreads across my face as happiness floods me. She’s mine. This is my wife beside me. My wife. For life.
“In?” she repeats. “What’s that mean?”
“Ah,” I shrug. “Craig Jenkins is now on payroll.”
She tips her head confused. “No. No way would he do that. He’s not dirty.”
“He’ll be as dirty as we need him to be,” I say. “It’s like conscription with my family. We draft people in as needed. Now that he’s privy to some things where you’re concerned, he’s in. Whether he wants it or not.”
She looks crestfallen.
My phone chimes, so I check and see a rare text message from my father. Or maybe from his assistant.
Michael Steele: Congratulations, Derek.
I scoff with amusement and write back
Thanks, Dad. See you Saturday at the party.
I don’t generally address him. He rarely addresses me. But we had a pretty poignant conversation at the curb at his place yesterday where, in the company of my remaining brothers, he informed me of his willingness to erase further problems in his family.
“I always figured there’s nothing as painful as losing one of your children. I faced that when my third born son was taken as a small boy and I didn’t think I could get him back.”
“As if you tried,” I muttered.
He went on as if I hadn’t spoken, though my three brothers paid attention and looked at me with an expression that I fucking loathed.
“But I’ve come to realize it’s even more painful to have one of your children continually and willfully make your life and your other children’s lives difficult as my second-born tarnished the family name with his idiocy, hot-headedness, his inferiority complex, along with his greed and sloppiness. The stress he caused your mother…” He let that hang with a severe expression on his face.
My father then did something he hasn’t done since I was a child. Laid a hand on my shoulder affectionately.