Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 115619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
I'm still reeling from that outburst when a soft female voice pipes up. “Did what for who? Who's her?”
Tatum enters the room, arms folded, shoulders hunched. I might not recognize her if I knew her any less. Her blonde hair is pulled into a bun on top of her head. Smeared eyeliner is under her eyes. Her oversized tee and black leggings are stained.
Who is this girl?
Her gaze ping-pongs between Romero and me. It seems Romero, like me, has lost his voice. All he does is stare at her, blank-faced. A slab of stone would have a better reaction at this point.
“Tell me,” she insists. “What did you do? And be careful how you answer, for I hate to tell you how voices carry around this place. I could hear you all the way down the hall.”
Now I know how an explosives expert must feel while handling live ammo. “Sweetheart, why don't you go back to your room? We can talk about this later.”
“I'm not a fucking child. If you’re talking about me, or anything related to me, I have a right to be present and defend myself.” She steps up to the chair Romero sits in, standing over him, daring him to look at her.
He sighs, his eyes narrowing. When it comes to Tatum, there is a weakness that seems to linger in Romero. I can’t put my finger on it. “Kristoff flew back into the states overnight. I had your father's men pick him up at the hanger and then gave them the order to hold him so he can be dealt with.”
“You what?” She nudges the chair with her knee. Disbelief painting her delicate features. The shock in her voice makes me pause. What did she think would happen? That we would let the bastard go? After what he did to her. Not happening. “You did what? I think I’m going to need you to repeat yourself because I can’t fucking believe what I just heard!”
“Tatum.” I stand, rounding the desk, reaching for her. In true Tatum fashion, she backs away, shaking her head, her eyes feral. Distress ripples off her in waves. I’m tempted to go to her, yet I don’t want her to run, regardless of what I said about her going to her room. At this moment, she’s fragile and I don’t want her to crack more than she already has.
Finally, she reaches the windowsill and has no choice but to come to a stop. She’s not at the jumping-out-a-window stage yet. “I don’t know why I’m surprised,” she mumbles under her breath. “And don’t bother lying to me. I know what you’re going to do next.”
Keep calm. “Sweetie, I just learned about this a few minutes ago. I haven’t made any decisions.”
“That’s bullshit, and we both know it. You decided exactly what you would do the moment you discovered what happened. His days were numbered, then.”
I can’t stop myself this time and cross the room, coming to a stop in front of her, my arms falling to my sides when it’s clear she’s not going to let me hold her. “You can’t expect me to let this go. I won’t apologize for protecting you. You’re my daughter, goddammit. I won’t let him get away with this, and you shouldn’t want him to either.”
“It’s not your revenge to take. You’re not the one he…” She stops in her tracks, her green eyes filling with unshed tears. The image before me makes my heart ache. He did this to her. He took her and made her a shell of the person she used to be; for that, he will wish for death a million times over.
“Listen to me.” Out of desperation, I reach for her again, more for myself than for her. My poor girl. I want to take her pain away, her heartache, and the only way to do that is to kill Kristoff.
This time she swings her arms, fighting me off. My God. What’s happening to her? Finally, I manage to take hold of her arms and pin them to her sides before pulling her in against my chest, using my strength to hold her still, no matter how she fights. “Tatum, sweetie, I want to help you, but you have to let me. I couldn’t stop what happened, but I can make him pay for what he’s done to you. Let me do this for you.”
No matter what she says, he’ll pay for what he did to her. I’ll lie to her if I have to, but he’s not getting away with abusing and raping my daughter.
“This isn't helping!” Her tears soak into my shirt and her body heaves with the force of her emotions. “Don’t you understand, Dad? Killing him won’t make the nightmares stop. It won’t make me forget what he did. Even if I’m not the one to kill him, his blood is still on my hands, and I can’t…. I’m not that person. I have enough weight on me. I can’t be responsible for someone else's death.”