Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 55769 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55769 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
When she was out of earshot, Seth clipped. “A puppy?”
Hector turned his attention to Seth. “She loves animals.”
“That’s hardly enough protection, Chavez,” Seth retorted. “And it’ll take at least a year to train it to do what it should be doing.”
“Then it’s good Vance Crowe installed a security system in my place that’s so much better than the one you had at your house, it’s laughable. And yours was top of the line. And that Sadie agreed to keep the tracker on her car and continue to carry one in her bag. Also, to have her location monitored through her phone.”
Seth puffed up his chest and huffed out a breath, which was the only way he’d share that he found that acceptable.
But Hector wasn’t feeling good about this.
“There a reason I need to keep her covered?”
“No. Except she’s my daughter and the worst happened to her, so I would hope you’d stay on target.”
“Since that’s always on both of our minds when it comes to Sadie’s safety, maybe don’t waste what little time we got left, and instead, ask me what you really wanna ask me,” Hector ordered.
Their eyes clashed.
Then, through clenched teeth, Seth asked, “How is she coping?”
He meant about the rape, because, yeah, that was always on both their minds when it came to Sadie’s safety.
It sucked the man was all in to be a good dad. It was a whole lot easier when he was a cold, heartless asshole.
“She’s fine,” he gritted in return. “She has good friends, two of whom know what she’s been through, two others got her into counselling. She likes her counsellor. Trusts her and connects with her when needed. My mom’s teaching her how to cook. She goes in next week to get fitted for another bridesmaid dress, this time, for Ava’s wedding. And if we don’t kill each other fighting over paint colors and shit, I’ll be putting a ring on her finger soon, so she’ll be getting fitted for another type of dress.”
Seth’s face turned to stone.
“You know it’s going to happen,” Hector warned low.
“There’s movement on my appeal,” Seth forced out.
Their case had been tight, so he muttered, “Good luck with that.”
“We’re appealing the sentencing, not the verdict.”
Hector sat still and studied him.
“Seems the judge may have acted improperly.”
“Fucking shit,” Hector muttered.
He’d been concerned about this.
“You want your future fiancée’s father incarcerated?”
“I want a criminal to pay for his crimes. After that’s over, I’ll worry about you being my father-in-law.”
“Well, you’ll get that. Both, it would seem. It’s simply that the maximum should have been five years, not fifteen. So I’ll be eligible for parole next year.”
“And you didn’t want to tell Sadie this because…?” Hector prompted.
Again, he looked sick when he said, “Because I don’t know whether she’ll be glad to hear it, or won’t want to know until it happens, so she can figure out how she feels then. And you do know where she stands on that.”
He suspected he looked sick when he replied, “She’ll want to know.”
Seth smiled slow. “Then you have good news to give her.”
Even if Seth wasn’t done, they were done.
Hector stood.
Seth waylaid him by calling his name.
He looked down at the man, and surprisingly, Seth didn’t move, even if he wasn’t at an equal or advantageous position.
Uncharacteristic.
“Is she giving Lizzie her gardenias?”
“Every Sunday,” Hector informed him.
Seth nodded.
Right. Now they were done.
Hector weaved his way through the tables of family and friends saying good-bye to inmates to get to Sadie.
When he got to her, she didn’t delay. “What was that about?”
“In the truck, preciosa.”
She rolled her eyes.
He slung an arm around her shoulders and guided her to his truck.
When they were in his new vehicle, the one she gave him for Christmas, the heater blasting to force out the cold (and it didn’t take ten minutes for the heater to do this, like it did in his Bronco), and they were on their way home, she snapped impatiently, “Well?”
“I see I got Attitude Sadie,” he teased.
“Oh my God. This is the worst. We’re close to a prison when I need to murder someone.”
He burst out laughing.
“Hector Chavez! What did my dad say to you?” she demanded.
“Calm down, mamita. He just wanted to make sure I got more security on you than a three-month-old puppy. And he wanted to share the state of his appeal, which might be looking good for him.”
“What?” she breathed.
He glanced at her and saw he was right.
She was digging building this slightly-less-fucked-up-but-still-fucked-up new relationship with her father. And it would be easier to do if she didn’t have to wait a month between visits.
“He’s appealing the sentence, not the verdict, and he might have been handed too strict of one.”
“Is that even possible?”
Hector blew out a breath.
Once he’d done that, he shared, “Yeah. It’s possible. Judges aren’t infallible. In this case, the judge was new. Only appointed six months before Seth’s trial. Federal appointment, that’s about politics, not ability or experience, or even understanding of the law. Our team was worried we got him, because he seemed like a cowboy jackass who was aiming to make a name for himself, and that could swing both ways. Seth wasn’t found guilty on all counts, and gotta admit, we were shocked he got hammered with that big of a sentence. The judge pulled some shit with not allowing evidence during the sentencing phase, and I knew our prosecutor wasn’t feeling good about it. Now I know why.”