The Dead King Read Online Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
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“We should be able to get enough gas to get to the next gas station,” I said, with an unfriendly tone, feeling overwhelmed and disturbed by what just happened. “The Red Cross down the road might have some food, if you’re hungry.”

“I can wait until we get to your father’s house.” Then why did he make me ask about all that? Clearly, he’d wanted me out of the room for a few minutes. But why? So he could die in the tub and come back to life? Fucking hell, this was weird.

“Wait. You never said anything about going anywhere near my father.”

“How do you think I will ensure he is protected?” Jack shook his head, slid on his boots, and headed for the door. “See you outside. You have three minutes.”

“I need ten. And stop telling me what to do,” I yelled at the back of his head. I was getting fed up with him, but I doubted that would change anything. The strange feelings inside me were growing stronger.

Soon, I’d have to face them.

CHAPTER NINE

We arrived at my dad’s house just west of Tallahassee. Normally, the drive would take about four hours from Tampa, but with the road closures and detours, we clocked seven hours and twenty-two minutes. I’d already called my dad to let him know we were coming, but he wasn’t answering.

“You stay here,” I said as Jack pulled up in the driveway, parking over the oil stains where my dad used to leave his old blue truck. Ironic how he drove a semi for decades without so much as a ticket, and then one day, boom. He ran a red light right in front of Target and changed everything. Honestly, I don’t think my dad even understood what happened. He swore up and down that the light had been green, but video footage showed otherwise. It was the reason the insurance company refused to pay more. His fault. Different coverage.

Jack nodded at my request for him to stay put, and I hopped out, feeling more than a little thankful that the porch lights were off. Our house was dark green with crooked white shutters and overgrown weeds. It was a stark contrast to all the other homes on the block with their neatly mowed lawns and porch swings. We didn’t have the money for upkeep, and I didn’t have the time to do it myself. Or maybe the house was a reflection of how I felt about it. We’d moved here after my mother died to be closer to my grandparents, who also left this world a few years after that. But this house never felt like home. It was a place we lived. Nothing more.

I used my key to enter. The lights were off inside, too, which wasn’t normal. My dad liked to stay up late reading or watching the news.

“Dad?” I flicked the switch in the foyer and then the living room just around the corner. He wasn’t asleep on our old gray couch, his usual spot.

A spike of fear lodged in my stomach. What if that woman already found out where I lived?

“Dad!” I went straight to his room and pushed on the door. My worries drained away, only to be replaced by sadness. He lay passed out on his bed next to an empty bottle of Jim Beam. He had his iPad in his hand, stuck on some sports channel. “Oh, Dad…” He had sandy blond hair and light brown eyes—my eyes. I got my short stature and dark brown hair from my mother, though she wore hers short in all the photos I’d seen. Mine was nearly down to my waist now. I hated cutting it because it reminded me of her. Felt wrong not to let it grow.

As for my dad, he’d been in good shape before his accident—liked working out during his time off. He said he wanted to stay healthy because of me. I had no other family, and he worried about leaving me all alone.

Looks like I should’ve been the one worrying. I shut off the iPad and kissed his forehead. I knew he’d been struggling with pain, but he swore he had things under control. Maybe taking that job in Tampa had been a mistake.

I shut his bedroom door and went into the kitchen, confronted by an overflowing trash can under the sink and piles of dirty dishes on the white tile counter. The beige linoleum floor was sticky, like it hadn’t been washed since I left. It broke my heart.

“You all right?” Jack came up behind me as I began emptying the dishwasher.

“He promised to have the maid service come by.” I started stacking the clean plates in the cupboard above the sink. “He swore he wouldn’t do this.”

Jack remained silent for a long moment while I powered through my task.


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