Total pages in book: 227
Estimated words: 220940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1105(@200wpm)___ 884(@250wpm)___ 736(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 220940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1105(@200wpm)___ 884(@250wpm)___ 736(@300wpm)
“Here.” Brad chucks me a bottle of water, and I quickly unscrew it and lay her back in my arms, pouring it over her lips, hoping she takes some of it in and clears away the dust. Naturally, she screams louder, and I feel like twenty tons of shite. “Oh baby.” I get her upright, seeing her spit and blow raspberries, trying to rid her mouth, more of the salt I expect. “Daddy’s sorry.” I stick my finger in her mouth, checking for remnants of the ashes of her dead grandfather. “Fucking hell.”
“Danny!” I hear Rose yell. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing, dear,” I yell back. “Our daughter’s a fucking Hannibal, dear,” I add quietly.
I look at the boys.
Both with babies in their arms. “It’s a good job we’re not in the game anymore because we’d be laughing stocks.”
“Would you care?” James asks.
I look at Maggie, blinking, her face a screwed-up picture of perfection. “No, can’t say I would.”
“Could give a flying fuck,” Brad mumbles. “Don’t.”
I look at the urn wedged in the sand. Pops. Where it all began. I smile and walk over, Maggie sitting on my forearm, and pick it up, looking out at the ocean. I see me, a boy, whizzing across the waves on my jet ski.
Carlo Black in pursuit.
“Rest in peace, Mister,” I whisper, turning away from the wind and tipping the urn, watching his ashes whip with the breeze, disappearing into the air. Ironically, I hear his laugh too. See him in his tanned-skin, silvered-haired glory, smoking a Cuban, supping a brandy. “Thanks for saving me.”
Welcome, kid. I’m fucking proud of you.
I swallow down the unexpected lump in my throat, looking down at my girl. “Thanks for everything,” I whisper.
Taking a deep breath, I turn to a quiet Brad and James. “Walk?” I say, prompting them both to work their way up from the sand.
We start to meander down the shoreline, watching the sun dropping into the ocean. “It’s been a pleasure, boys,” I say casually as Maggie rests her head on my shoulder. She’s tired. Wants her daddy cuddles.
And I’m here for it.
“A blast,” James says dryly, flipping me an ironic look.
“Wouldn’t have wanted to nearly die numerous times with anyone else,” Brad adds, casting a look our way.
I smile like an idiot, as he smiles back at me and James laughs.
We’ve always had one foot in heaven, one in hell. That will never change.
But we’re no longer unlawful, just pussy-whipped instead. And that’s way more frightening.
Unlawful men.
Over and out.
* * *
THE END