Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Sorry, I type in reply. I don’t know why I’ve become such tabloid fodder.
You should pay me back by letting me take you to coffee.
I grit my teeth. You know I’m with Damion.
Do I?
Yes, I reply, YOU DO. And I absolutely use caps.
Caps. She’s angry. I’ll back off, but the offer stands. Goodnight, Alana.
Damn skippy, I’m angry, I think, and we’re thankfully done with this exchange.
I set my phone down and curl up into the chair, pulling a blanket from the edge over me and snuggling beneath. I want to call Damion but not for the first time tonight I think of that day I’d sat at the table with him when his “friend” had insulted me. Damion had lashed out at him, gone for the jugular and he’s clearly in fight mode. If he’s with his father, and I call him, my name on his caller ID, reminding him that I’m here waiting, could set him off.
My lashes lower, and I decide if he’s not back in the next forty-five minutes I’ll reverse strategy. Okay, no. I’m weak. I can’t wait another forty-five minutes. I text him: You have no idea how much restraint I’ve shown not calling and texting. I need you. Please come home. I wait for a reply and wait some more. I set the phone down, my belly in knots. I’m empty right now, so very empty, and I dare one more sip of the whiskey, drugging my mind, and yet, it still leads me to bad feelings and worse insecurities. But at least this time when my lashes lower, a laden feeling overcomes me, and I begin to drift off to sleep.
Alone.
My first night living with Damion.
Chapter forty-two
Damion
I don’t turn to watch Caleb depart. Savage does that for me.
Instead, I lean back in my seat, and allow myself to process what just happened and replay the message at the core of this meeting; walk away and this is over. Caleb says I don’t give my father credit. If either of them believe this conversation is the best way to get rid of me, I think they both don’t give me enough credit.
It’s time to get the hell out of this shitty bar.
I stand up and Savage stands with me. Neither of us speak. Both of us are smart enough to know there could be mics and cameras everywhere. This was all planned. For all we know, Caleb probably expected us to find his little girl. I doubt she’s even really his daughter. He’d never be stupid enough to let us find her.
In silence we walk through the bar and when we’re in the backseat of the vehicle, the door shut, then and only then does Savage say, “He’s worried about his daughter which you handled like a class act and perfectly.”
“I don’t even know if I believe the daughter isn’t a planted story.”
“Blake would have known. It’s not. And I know monsters like Caleb. The only part of him that’s still human is the part that loves his daughter and he does.”
I need to think and I can’t do that with Savage shoving his opinions down my throat. The SUV starts moving. “Drop me at my office.”
Savage’s eyes glint with what looks to me like refusal, that he smartly reconsiders, before speaking over his shoulder to the driver, his voice muted enough that I can’t hear him and I don’t care anyway. I’m already on a second replay of the meeting with Caleb, analyzing all the nuances. Nearly fifteen minutes of traffic later, we arrive at the West office building.
I exit the SUV without a word to Savage, but any hope of silencing the noise in my head goes south when I find Blake Walker waiting on me.
He’s a big man, talk and dark, with brown eyes who manages to be disarming and imposing I suspect to many in the same moment. Right now, all he is to me, is poorly timed.
“I need a minute, Blake,” I say. “We’ll talk tomorrow.” I start walking.
“I’m here to help you end this,” he calls out.
I halt and rotate to face him. “Assuming you heard everything tonight, or at least listened to Savage’s opinions, he’s wrong. Caleb isn’t telling the truth. And you know how I know that?” I don’t give him time to answer, adding, “Not only do I know my father will never let me walk away, so does he.”
“What does that mean to you?”
“From where I stand there’s only one way to end this. My father has to die. The only reason I won’t do that myself is Alana and what it will do to me and her. But if that’s the only option I have to protect her, I’ll do it anyway. In other words, find me another answer, and it has to be now.” I rotate and stride toward the door, and I don’t stop until I’ve traveled a path through the dark offices and entered my office, where I don’t bother with the lights.