Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 131455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
“You can't kill him. It would look pretty obvious, wouldn't it?”
The breath catches in my throat while Romero sounds like he’s choking at her sudden bluntness. “Oh, come on,” she sighs. “What else could you have meant? Let’s be real. If anybody knows he’s after me, it’ll look bad if he suddenly disappears.”
“Last I checked, I don't need you giving me advice on how to run shit around here.”
“But you know I'm right.”
“I wasn't going to kill him.” Though I would like to shake him up a little. Show him what happens when you bully a defenseless girl. The apple didn't fall very far from the tree, did it? If Jeff’s not careful, he’ll end up like his dead kid.
Tatum exchanges a glance with Romero–guilty, hesitant–before clearing her throat. “I think... it would be best for me to go the way we talked about before.”
“You can't be serious. If anything, this is exactly why you shouldn't. What happens if you're off on your own and he decides he's tired of only sending messages?”
“Dad, I can't rely on you for the rest of my life. I can't hide behind you. I need to face this on my own.” On her own, but something tells me she'll be living on my dime the way she always has. The girl has never truly been on her own in all her life. She's always been able to fall back on me, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I would rather she lean on my generosity than, God forbid, rely on strangers who might not have her best interests in mind.
“I can't pretend the idea makes me happy.” I’m too busy pretending I'm not fighting the impulse to tie her up somewhere so I know she's protected when I pull her in for a hug. “Where will you go?”
“I don't know yet.”
“And how will I know you're being looked after?”
“Dad, I'm not a little kid anymore. I don't need to be looked after.” We'll only end up fighting if I remind her how much help she's needed over the past couple of months. I would rather not permanently damage our relationship.
“I'll feel a lot better if I send someone to look after you.”
“A watchdog?”
“If I feel like it, yes. A watchdog. That's actually a very good idea—thanks for putting it in my head.”
“I don't want to live that way.”
“With all due respect, you don't have a choice.”
Finally, Romero decides to speak up. “If you don't mind, I have an idea.”
I turn to him, expecting him to back me up—and in a way, he does. “I could go, and watch over Tatum.”
Instantly, I'm bombarded with memories of the two of them at each other 's throats. “And run the risk of this one spending all her time coming up with ways to kill you in your sleep?”
“This one? I have a name.” She extricates herself from my grasp and makes a big deal of brushing herself off and straightening out her clothes. “And I might have been like that before, but I've grown up a little. Maybe a lot. Also I'm not stupid. I don't want to be walking around with a target on my back with nobody to protect me.”
“It’s obvious you’ve already talked about this behind my back.” Otherwise, there’s no way she would accept the idea so quickly.
“Come on.” She looks worn, tired, as she shakes her head. My little girl, so tired. “He has the screenshots. You think I didn’t give him any context? I knew you wouldn’t let me go on my own.”
She's got me over a barrel, a position I've never much enjoyed. She already wants to leave, and I can't force her to stay, but it means losing my right hand in the process. At the same time, he's the only one I’d trust alone with her. I doubt I would sleep a single night for fear of what she might be doing, seeing, or going through. I know I can trust Romero to provide regular updates and he’ll protect her with his life.
“Maybe it would be for the best,” I have to admit even though it pains me like I can't describe to think of letting her leave.“We’ll work out a way to get him off your back, and in the meantime, you can lie low.”
“It would mean taking her somewhere secret,” Romero murmurs, as if I haven't already realized that.
“I know, and together we can decide where that will be.”
“And you're still okay with it?”
“Do yourself a favor and quit while you're ahead,” I advise my daughter with as close to a smile as I can muster. Besides, I have an idea of where she could go and be perfectly safe, somewhere I could find her if I needed to. “It's for the best right now—that does not mean I expect this to be permanent. You will be coming home. This is where you belong, with your family.”