Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 51832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Luke releases me and scrubs his jaw, pressing his hands to his waist. “Okay let’s think about this. He made me promise to take care of you.” When I would object, he holds up a hand, “Hear me out, baby. Those are not the words of a man who wrote you off, but as I think back to that day, it is a man who knew something was coming long before it came.”
I think back to that day, or night actually, that he’s referencing. To the first time I’d taken Luke to dinner at my father’s place as my date. Kasey was there, too, and while my father had been welcoming, everything with Kasey had been combative. But it was Kurt, who’d called Luke “Lucifer” so many times that I’d finally lost my patience.
“Luke,” I’d corrected. “His name is Luke.”
My brother’s reply had been one of his famous smartass snorts. “Like the name erases Lucifer from his blood. You really think if we call him Luke, we erase every reason he earned that nickname?”
It had been a whole thing that had led Luke to confess some things about his past to me, he’d feared sharing. But I’d found him vulnerable and honest.
I blink to the real memory he’s referencing.
Kurt had met us at the door when we’d arrived for dinner and I slip back into that memory, right after the two men had shaken hands.
Kurt meets Luke’s stare, and says, “You know what I like about you?”
“I used to think it was my ability to do my job, sir,” is Luke’s reply, of course, referencing his combat and aviation skills, which Kurt often references as “exceptional.”
“It still is,” Kurt assures him. “And at some point, if my daughter decides you’re a keeper, one day, when I’m no longer around, your job will be to protect her.”
Frustrated with the direction of the conversation, I quickly say, “I can take care of myself,” but I don’t miss how Kurt’s eyes meet Luke’s, a challenge in their depths.
I blink back to the present and funny how I’d seen that moment differently. At the time, I’d just thought Kurt was overplaying the protective father, and while a bit irritating, still rather charming the way it played out, on both their parts. Now I’m not sure I read it right at all. “He knew something was coming but we didn’t,” I say. “Maybe. If that’s true though, how do we know that anything with Kurt was ever real? We clearly missed a lot of things going on around us.”
“I thought the same thing at first, but let’s be logical not emotional. We weren’t at The Ranch or involved with Kurt and Kasey on a daily basis before Kurt died. We were living our own lives. I was overseas and you were involved in your work.”
I wave off that answer. He’s trying to make me feel better. I don’t want to feel better. I want this to end and it ends because we face the facts. “That’s an excuse we both know we aren’t willing to accept,” I say. “We were at The Ranch after Kurt died. We were around Kasey.”
“And we both knew nothing about Kasey was ever right. You tried to help him after Kurt disappeared but it’s more obvious than ever, he didn’t want to be saved.”
“He didn’t want to die, either,” I argue. “That’s not what he wanted.”
It’s the wrong thing to say. It’s completely not the right thing to say, but it’s out before I can stop it, words that flew from my mouth, fueled by emotion.
His jaw is an instant band, pulled tight and hard, the air chilled and when he exits the bathroom, I’m reaching for him. He’s too fast. He escapes but not for long. I’m not done with this conversation that isn’t what he believes it to be at all. But the very fact that he believes it to be, tells me we’re still broken.
The glass half full has not only been knocked to the ground. It’s shattered and empty.
Chapter Eight
Luke
I’m headed for the bedroom door with the roar of my own voice in my head. Who the fuck am I kidding with all this happily-ever-after marriage bullshit?
I killed her brother. Why the hell do I think she will actually marry me? Yet, in what is clearly a ridiculous point of view, I’ve convinced myself that’s doable. I can marry Ana. I can live the dream. As if I didn’t fucking pull that trigger. As if anyone could live with that kind of baggage. A load and a half that would exist every day for the rest of our lives. I don’t know how I live with the pain in her eyes. I don’t know how she lives with the man responsible for her brother’s death, no matter what led to the ultimate act. I don’t know how the hell we do any of that. I also don’t know how the hell to live without her. I don’t fucking know how. I’ve been miserable alone.