Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 58615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
“You don’t want to involve the police?” I query, confused.
“Shooting people in the head is frowned upon by the law. I owe you more than I could ever repay,” Jack says fiercely. “I won’t allow Marjorie to ruin more lives by letting Zac get arrested for her demise.”
Well, damn. We had him wrong after all.
“I’ll stay,” Ford assures us, following Jack down the corridor to Clove’s room.
I let out a heavy sigh. I guess we’re dumping bodies. I slap a hand down on Zac’s shoulder and offer him a reassuring smile. “She’ll be fine with Ford. Let’s go sort this mess out before anyone else discovers it.”
One week later…
You’d never know what happened in this room only a week ago. There’s no trace of death, murder, chaos. I would have never thought Marjorie was capable of this whole ordeal. Now she’s gone. My guys killed her for her sins against me. I feel no guilt or sorrow for her death. I don’t know where they took the bodies—her and the man she used as a tool to carry out her final plan. And I don’t care. All I know is they’re gone. A shiver runs through me as I remember well before then. Good memories. Back when it all started with Seb, Ford, Leo, and Zac. Memories of when my world first began to change. When my guys first laid their eyes on me with new sight. I can’t help but smile. But my smile falls when I think about my dad.
I chose not to tell him what Marjorie confessed about Mom. His heart is already shattered enough, little shards of guilt bleeding him out one thought at a time. He wouldn’t survive knowing she was responsible for my mother as well. It would tip him over the edge. I can spare him that.
I drag the suitcase from my closet and plonk it on the bed before going to my dresser and emptying it of the contents, shoving everything inside the square box. The door peels open, and my father enters on timid feet. “Hey,” he utters, grimacing when he sees me packing. “What are you doing?”
Sighing, I sit on the bed and pat the mattress for him to join me. “You can’t keep me locked in your high tower forever, Dad.” I nudge him, smiling. Ever since he was allowed to bring me home, he’s been overbearing and anal about every security detail possible.
“I don’t want to send you away,” he tells me, gripping my hand and squeezing. “I’ll never send you anywhere again. You belong here with me. I won’t run for president. We’ll spend more time together.”
“I don’t want you to stop being who you are,” I tell him gently. “You were always destined to end up in DC, but that’s your life. Not mine. I don’t belong here.”
“Where do you belong if not here with your father?” he asks, chuckling, but it’s not amusement, it’s confusion.
“I belong with them, Dad. I always have. Since the day you shut the car door on us at Mom’s funeral. It’s always been them. They are my life, my future, my destiny.”
His brows furl together. “Clove…” He chokes a little and clears his throat, a flurry of questions dancing in his eyes as his cheeks turn ruddy with embarrassment. He doesn’t need to know all the details to the thoughts racing in his mind.
“I love them,” is all I say before getting to my feet and clasping the suitcase closed. “But I love you too and always will. Good luck with your campaign, Daddy.” I drop a kiss to his cheek and type out a quick text.
Me: I’m ready.
Seconds later, Ford knocks and enters my room, offering me his warm, infectious smile.
“I’ll take this, Lucky,” he says, grabbing the suitcase and taking my hand. “Jack.” He nods before gently guiding me out of the room and down the stairs to the waiting Tahoe where Zac sits, the engine idling. Seb watches me like a hawk from the passenger seat. Zac winks at me as I jump in the back, scooting over to Leo. After Ford tosses my suitcase in the back, he too slides in beside me.
“Got everything you need?” Zac asks, his eyes meeting mine in the rearview mirror.
Sebastian turns to give me a happy smile. Leo gives my thigh a squeeze. And Ford steals a kiss on my cheek.
“Yes,” I tell him, overcome with happiness. “All I’ll ever need is right here.”
“Let’s go home, then,” Seb orders.
Home.
Butterflies dance in my stomach and my heart clenches in my chest.
They’re my home.
Sebastian, Ford, Leo, and Zac.
God, I love them.
Mine.
Six months later…
I swipe the sweat from my brow, hating that it’s hot as fuck today, but thrilled as hell with the progress the builders have made. Slab has been poured and framing is up. I hired a local builder—another friend of Rachel’s—and he’s proven to be worth his weight in gold. My house no longer fits, not to mention it was mine.