Contempt (Sin City Salvation #3) Read Online A. Zavarelli

Categories Genre: Angst, Biker, Contemporary, Dark, MC, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Sin City Salvation Series by A. Zavarelli
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Total pages in book: 195
Estimated words: 185573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 928(@200wpm)___ 742(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
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“It’s nice to finally meet you, Madden.”

Emotion clogs my throat when I answer. “You too.”

“Have a seat.” She wipes the moisture leaking from her eyes. “I’ll get you a glass of lemonade.”

I take a seat on the couch, and she heads into the kitchen, talking from the other side of the wall. “You’ve had a long journey, I imagine.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Call me Jackie.” She pokes her head around the corner briefly.

I nod, and she disappears again, trailed by the faint tinkling sounds of her preparing our drinks. A moment later, she brings a tray out, a pitcher and two glasses already filled, one of which she offers to me. I take it gratefully, drinking half of the cool, sweet liquid as she sits on the other end of the couch.

“You’ve been home to see your mama?” she asks.

I nod reluctantly, and she doesn’t miss my stone-faced expression. There’s a quiet moment as she seems to consider me before she speaks again.

“It’s funny how time away can bring clarity to things, isn’t it?” she muses. “My husband always used to tell me that people tend to forget the bad and try to remember things better than they were. And I suppose he was right. Although he wouldn’t argue with me that Wyatt was too good for this world.”

I take another drink, wondering just how much Wyatt told her about me. My voice is still rough when I do respond.

“He was a good man,” I agree. “I’m sorry he didn’t come home to you and Zoe. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to save him.”

“Son.” Her hand on my shoulder startles me, and when I look up, there’s an understanding in her eyes that guts me. “Don’t you dare put that on yourself. You couldn’t control what happened to him any more than I could sitting here on my living room sofa.”

I glance down at the floor, eyes burning. “If there’s ever anything I can do, I want you to tell me. If you ever need anything at all—”

“What I need is for you to live your life.” She places her hand on mine. “That’s what Wyatt would want, and that’s what I want for you, too.”

“I can do that,” I answer gruffly.

She pats my hand and pulls away. “Now tell me all about your travels. Did you drive here from Texas? And where on God’s green earth did this dog come from? He looks like a sweet boy.”

Thankful for the change of topic, I tell her about our road trip and find myself confessing things I probably wouldn’t admit to anyone else. I explain how I’m still struggling to adapt to the civilian world and how Ranger and I like to camp because I enjoy the peace and quiet.

One topic of conversation leads to another, and she tells me all about Zoe and how she’s growing so fast she can hardly keep up. She explains that she’s down for a nap, but she’ll be awake any minute, and she wants me to meet her. I want that too, and quietly, in my own thoughts, I decide Wyatt got his easy countenance from his mother. They’re the polar opposite of my family. Warm, thoughtful, and honest. The type of people you feel like you can talk to or just sit beside in silence. Being in her presence brings me a peace I didn’t know I needed, and I’m grateful for it.

True to her word, Zoe wakes up and makes noise, and Jackie walks down the hall to retrieve her. It’s only when she comes back with the little girl in her arms that it truly hits me how small she is.

“This is our friend Madden,” Jackie tells her as Zoe’s gaze moves to me.

Zoe clings to her shirt, glancing at me uncertainly before Jackie leans down and tries to hand her over to me. Panic ensues, but there isn’t time to protest before she’s planted in my lap, and Jackie is wiggling a stuffed bunny in front of her.

“As long as you have this, you’ll be her best friend,” she says. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

I move my gaze to the little brown eyes peering back at me, and my chest squeezes. I don’t know anything about babies, but I finally know what people mean when they say they have that baby smell. It’s innocent, clean, and pure—untarnished by the world around her.

A swirl of dark hair sits atop her head, and her pink, rosy cheeks round when she smiles up at me. She wraps her tiny fingers around one of mine and then squeals in delight when I say hello. Her legs kick out as she drags the bunny up and shows it to me.

I don’t have a clue how to interact with a baby, but she doesn’t seem to mind. Jackie tells me she must like me, and it relaxes me a bit. As I sit there with her, it hits me hard all over again that Wyatt can’t be here to see this. He’ll never have any more of these memories with her.


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