Never Look Back (Redemption Hills #3) Read Online A.L. Jackson

Categories Genre: Angst, Contemporary, Mafia, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Redemption Hills Series by A.L. Jackson
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Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 142783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
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“I do.”

“Jarek will be more than displeased.”

“He wagered me in a game last night, Papa. He lost. He should at least suffer for that.”

“Disgraziato,” he spat.

It was my only chance. The mistake that Jarek had made and the idea that I might be able to uncover what had happened to the stones.

Except that idea was moot.

Logan had sold them.

Had told me himself.

God, I was playing a fool’s game.

But I had to try.

“Please, Papa, give me this chance. One month. Until the new year. I’ll find out where the stones are in that time. I promise.”

Hesitation poured through the line, and I whispered, “Please, Papa.”

I could feel the sag of his shoulders. The giving in. “One month, mia vita. One month is all I can give.”

“And Logan will be protected? His family?”

He sighed. “You ask more of me than I should grant, but I give it because I do love you. Jarek will be ordered to stand down.”

“And what will you do about Jarek?”

“I will speak with him.”

“Papa, I fear he needs more than speaking to.”

And I feared more I’d just told my father the greatest lie. I wasn’t asking for one month.

I was asking for my life.

Slipping off my heels, I wiggled my toes into the plush carpet and exhaled a long breath of the fear I’d been holding.

I couldn’t believe my father had agreed.

Couldn’t believe it.

More tears fell.

These ones were of relief. For once, I felt like some of the chains I’d carried had been lifted.

I allowed myself to relish in it.

Freedom.

For the first time in my life, I was standing up for what I wanted.

Fighting for myself.

I didn’t think I’d ever felt a more overwhelming relief than knowing I could breathe.

That I could sleep.

Logan and his family were safe, and Jarek wasn’t there to control me.

To watch me.

To touch me.

Revulsion curdled in my stomach, the same sickness I’d lived in for years.

The vile man had demolished me in a single strike, yet day after day, desolation had built upon that tragedy.

They say time heals wounds, but every time I looked at Jarek, it felt like I was being ripped open anew.

At the nightstand on the right side of the bed, I plugged in my phone, then I moved to the dresser opposite the bed that had a large television sitting on top of it, and I pulled open the top left drawer.

Photo albums.

My heart palpitated in my chest. Part of me wanted to pry. To dig deeper into the ambiguous, confusing man that Logan Lawson had become.

The other part of me knew I couldn’t stomach it.

It still stung too badly. Prying would only be asking for more pain.

Staying here, in his space? It was going to hurt enough.

I shoved it closed and opened the middle drawer.

Inside was a stash of journals, stationary paper, and pens. But next to them was a clear bin filled with the little paper stars.

Memories of us.

Why had he kept them?

God, this was brutal.

I slammed it closed before I looked too closely at his intentions.

I opened the drawer on the right. A soft smile tugged at my mouth when I found it was stuffed with toys. My mind traveled to the face of the little boy.

Gage.

To the adoration that had shown in Logan’s eyes. The sweetness. The care. The mischief.

All the things I remembered.

And I wondered—wondered if pieces of that man existed.

My reckless, beautiful boy.

Heaving out a sigh, I moved to the row of lower drawers and opened the first.

Old tees.

Success.

I didn’t know how much longer I could stay in this dress.

I grabbed the first black tee and held up the massive thing that would swallow me whole. The print on the front softened the blow of all the words he’d cast at me since he’d crashed back into my life.

It was from Star Wars. His old obsession.

It had Yoda on the front, and it said, Yoda best uncle.

Affection left me on a soft laugh.

I could only picture that little boy giving it to him. Could only picture Logan peeling off his fitted suit to put it on.

I pressed it to my face like it held the pieces of this mystery of a man.

Like the fibers might be woven in his complexity.

The dark and the light.

The wicked and the kind.

I just hoped they both existed when it came to me.

I moved into the bathroom and slid out of the dress and let it drop to a heap on the floor.

Tingles spread.

Comfort taking hold.

I washed my face, then found an extra toothbrush in the cupboard so I could brush my teeth.

By the time I pulled the shirt over my head and looked at my mussed reflection in the mirror, I felt like a new woman.

A free woman.

And to my reflection, I made a brand-new promise.

I will never go back.

Half an hour later, I eased out the bedroom door and down the hall. My footsteps were quieted, filled with the instinct to remain concealed when I was the only one there. Silence hovered thick, like when Logan had gone, he’d left the weight of his presence there, ominous and tranquil.


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