Total pages in book: 197
Estimated words: 199143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 996(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 996(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
He grabbed her notebook off her stand, and scribbled a quick note for her to wake up to. She never said a thing about him leaving her night after night, but he knew it had to bother her just a little.
Abriella didn’t want to be alone.
Tommas didn’t want to leave.
It might as well have been the story of their goddamn lives. Or rather, their relationship. He was always leaving. She was always being left behind.
Tommas wished that wasn’t the case.
But it was.
He gave Abriella’s hand one more kiss, and slipped out of her hospital room without looking back.
That only hurt.
*
Tommas sipped on his coffee, waiting. It wasn’t long before Nate slid onto the stool beside his Capo.
“Hey, boss,” Nate said.
“Evening. What do you have for me?”
Nate shrugged. “Exactly what we suspected. Nothing.”
Tommas blew out a heavy breath, frustrated and irritated. “You didn’t get anything out of Joel’s men on what he might do?”
“Yeah, nothing, Tommy.”
Goddammit.
Running a hand over his face, Tommas tried to tamper is anger. He’d been waiting Joel out ever since the restaurant shooting. He hoped the man would do the right thing and take out the issue that had caused Abriella to take a bullet to the back.
That issue being Laurent.
Tommas’ own father.
Sure, it was likely that the bullet that hit Abriella hadn’t actually come from Laurent’s gun, but the entire shootout shouldn’t have happened at all. It wouldn’t have happened had Laurent not been such a fucking fool, following after Joel Trentini like the man knew what he was doing.
Joel didn’t know a fucking thing.
Laurent should have known better.
Taking out Joel was too troublesome for Tommas at that moment. It would probably cause him more issues than he could handle, so that was an option he couldn’t take. His father, however, would be simple.
Easy, even.
And God knew Tommas was pissed off enough to do it.
Years.
So many years of abuse, neglect, and hatred had piled up on Tommas toward his parents. They had hurt him over and over, time and time again. Their alcoholism became his parents’ first priority, and they never thought twice about the children they brought into the world and were supposed to care for and love.
Laurent didn’t know about Abriella and Tommas’ relationship. He couldn’t possibly understand how badly he had hurt Tommas by putting Abriella in danger like he had.
But it was done.
It still happened.
Tommas couldn’t forgive that.
Not for a second.
“What are you going to do now?” Nate asked.
Tommas took another sip of coffee as he mulled over his very limited options. He also considered Abriella because she was always on his mind. She had finally been let out of the hospital and was allowed to go back home.
Unfortunately, her brother had her on an even tighter leash now that she was put on bedrest for healing.
Who knew when he would see her again?
Hold her?
Kiss her?
Love her?
Damn.
Yeah, Tommas was pissed.
“I don’t know,” Tommas finally said quietly.
Nate frowned. “Sorry, boss.”
“No worries. You got me what I wanted, even if it’s not what I want to hear. If Joel isn’t planning on taking care of my fuck up of a father, then that leaves me to the job.”
It’s not like he couldn’t do it. Tommas could do it without blinking. The abused could only be stuck so many times before the chain finally broke and they struck back. Laurent should have known this.
Tommas wasn’t the compliant child that he once was, hiding away and not making any noise as to not disturb his drunk parents. He was an adult now.
“I could take care of it for you,” Nate suggested. “Make it fast, you know.”
Tommas pushed his empty coffee cup across the counter. “No, I’ll do it.”
He just had to pick a time.
*
Tommas spun the quarter on the table, watching it spin wildly until it fell with a clang onto its side. Picking up the coin, he repeated the motion. The noise of the spinning and falling coin echoed in the quiet, dingy smelling kitchen of his parents’ home.
More often than not, he tried not to come here. Whenever his sisters came home from Toronto for a visit, he would make his way over, but he tried not to stay for very long.
He hated this house.
Loathed the people within.
Despised the memories that wouldn’t leave no matter how hard he willed them away.
Despite being a thirty year old man, he often found himself feeling like a young boy again whenever he was inside the home. The young boy who had needed to take care of his even younger twin sisters, who cleaned their crying faces, bandaged their scraped knees, and fed their mouths when there was food in the house.
Those were the kind of memories that Tommas wanted to let go of. He didn’t want them mudding up his mind, or affecting his future.
He wasn’t that boy anymore.