Total pages in book: 211
Estimated words: 201554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1008(@200wpm)___ 806(@250wpm)___ 672(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 201554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1008(@200wpm)___ 806(@250wpm)___ 672(@300wpm)
My father steps in front of me. “You taught him something important today. What lesson, Eric?”
“Not to underestimate your opponent.”
“No. That’s not the lesson.”
He turns and walks away.
Chapter seventy-three
Eric
The minute I exit the building, Savage pushes off the building and falls into step with me. “I’m your Huckleberry, you badass got your back Huckleberry. Blake’s on live feed."
“Where’s Adam?”
“Oh fuck,” he growls. “You SEALs. You think no one is as good as you are. He’s still in Denver. He doesn’t trust anyone else to handle what you need handled there. You want me to call another one of our fin-wearing, belly-flopping guys to be back up right now, or do you think you can live with me?”
I arch a brow in his direction.
He arches a brow in mine.
“I simply wanted to know if Adam still had eyes on Isaac.”
“Oh that,” he says dryly. “Yes. He does and he has his lifejacket by his side with his little arm tubes, too, just in case he has to dive in and save someone.”
I surprise myself and laugh. “You’re a piece of work, Savage.”
“And I don’t even need fins to swim.” He drops that joke and turns serious. “Why are we walking?”
“I planned to clear my head and think, but you keep talking.”
“Right. What are we doing?”
“Apparently not clearing our heads and thinking. I’ve decided it’s time for me and my father to have a heart-to-heart.”
“I heard that shit. I guess my job is to make sure neither of you kill each other.”
I don’t comment. He doesn’t know my history with my father or he’d know how true that possibility is. Lord only knows, I wish the fuck it wasn’t what it is. I wish like hell I hadn’t been that man’s little bitch, at one point in my life, but I have been. For years, he knew how to work me, how to rattle me, and that’s what he wants now. To break me and set me up.
He’ll need an army, a whole lot of ammunition, and luck, to do it.
We cut a corner, and Savage grimaces. “It’s cold as a motherfucker out here and you don’t have a coat on.”
He’s right. It’s cold, but my shirt sends a conflicting message to my father, one of loyalty to the brand, that may or may not include him. I want to be sure he sees it the minute I walk in the door.
Savage’s phone rings. He grabs it and answers. “Savage here. What the fuck do you want?” He eyes me and then listens again before he hangs up. “Adam says that Isaac hasn’t exited his house since you left Denver. It’s reading off to him. He’s going in for a closer look.”
It’s not off to me. Isaac had a fight with his big bad boss, and father, and now he’s sulking like the little bitch he is and always has been. He’s probably been told to stand down and wait on daddy to call him with the “all clear” because I’m dealt with. I’m about to be dealt with, all right. I don’t voice any of this to Savage. I’ll let Adam confirm Isaac’s tucked in bed or washed up in a bottle.
A block from the hotel, I stop at the entrance to a coffee shop. “I’ll be right back.” I don’t wait on Savage to reply.
I walk inside, order two hazelnut lattes, just the way my father likes them, one for him, one for me to hold. When the coffees are in hand, I exit the coffee shop and hand one of them to Savage. “You can drink what you want of that one, but I need the cup at the hotel.”
“You’re taking your father coffee?”
“Of course. I want this to be a cordial meeting.” I think of the lesson my father was speaking of when we ended that chess game between me and Isaac right before I started law school: Never fight a war as the underdog. I’ve let myself act like the underdog with him. I never was.
Which is why I focus on the lesson my mother taught me: no regrets.
I pull my phone from my pocket and dial Harper. “Eric!” she exclaims, answering on the first ring. “What’s happening?”
I almost smile with her excitement and I would if I wasn’t headed to see my father. When the fuck was anyone ever this damn glad to hear my voice. “Nothing yet, but you remember you said you had something to say to me earlier?”
She’s quiet a moment. “Yes?” she asks, a tremble in her voice.
“I fucking love you, woman. Time isn’t going to change that and I would have rather said this in person. I’ll tell you again when I see you in person.”
“I love you, too, but why are you saying this now? What are you going to do? Forget whatever it is. Come back, and tell me you love me in person.”