Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 45284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
“Of a family? Yes, very, very open.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Amelia
Tommy sits in the driver’s seat, driving at just the speed limit, the Thames flitting by us as we cross the city. Two security cars drive behind.
Tommy was too amped-up to sit in the back of the car, waiting. The muscles are tight on his forearms as if ready to snap the steering wheel out of place and toss it out the window. He’s breathing hard, his teeth clenched, but when we hit a red light, he glances at me and softens just a bit. My heart glows as I remember what he said in the office and, after, in the elevator—oops, I mean lift—when he asked me if I was interested.
We didn’t get a chance to say anything else. Now it’s floating in the air between us, this revelation, this admission that there’s a new aspect to the relationship we want to explore. One that means a life together. Surely he knows that.
“How many?” he asks when the light changes.
I don’t even have to ask what he means. “I’m not sure. Maybe three or four?”
He grins. “In that case, we might as well round it off to five.”
Five beautiful children, each unique in their own way.
“Are you seriously serious?”
He laughs gruffly but then cuts it off, along with the grin, like he’s annoyed at himself for showing any positive emotion right now.
“I’m seriously serious, Ami, my cute, perfect American. The first time I saw you…”
“What, Tommy?”
“I can’t say this now,” he snarls. “I have to focus on Loki.”
“Yes, right, obviously, but me too.”
He glances at me, his lip twitching.
“When I saw you in the rain, I immediately knew it. The man of my dreams had come to visit me and look at us. A couple of days later, we’re already talking about this. Sure, I haven’t got much experience…”
Any, really.
“But I have to believe that means something. Something special is happening here. I know it.”
“It is,” he says fiercely, touching my knee, squeezing with possession. “We’re building something, but…”
“I know… later.”
“Later,” he says passionately.
“Oh, God,” I say, staring across the dirty front yard.
The grass is patchy and muddy, and there is stuff all over it: an old rusted bike lying upside down, what looks like a used condom, several crumpled cans, and Loki, throwing himself against the bars of a cage and yapping loudly. I climb from the car without thinking, my heart breaking when I see the poor pooch. Tommy is next to me, and his security follows a second later.
“Easy, boy,” Tommy says, and Loki’s barking quiets. He tilts his head as if unsure whether he recognizes the voice. “It’s me. Relax. It’s all right. You’re a good boy.”
I move forward, but Tommy darts his hand out, touching my wrist.
“We have to get him—”
“Look.”
Tommy nods, and that’s when I see it. The man from the alleyway stands in the window directly above the cage. His red hair is greasier and wilder than last time, but it’s definitely him.
“What’s in the bucket, Ollie?” Tommy snaps.
“Hot oil,” Ollie says, and I think he might be telling the truth. He’s wearing a thick oven mitt on each hand. “See, I’m smarter than you’ve given me credit for, mate. A friend of mine got wind you were coming and saw all those cars. Set this little game up. Good, eh?”
“Where’s this friend now?” Tommy says in disgust. “I thought you were supposed to have backup?”
“Lied, lied,” Ollie says, erratic as hell. “This was just a homeless mate with keen eyes, but I haven’t got an army. Tricked youuuuuu.”
Loki whines, pawing at the cage’s bars like he’s asking us what’s taking so long.
“If you do this,” Tommy says, “I’ll beat you to death with my bare hands.”
Ollie tries to laugh, but there’s nothing funny in Tommy’s voice.
“I mean it. You’ve done enough already—the graffiti, the blackmail, the lies about having backup. That’s fine. I get it. You’re a criminal, but threatening somebody’s niece? And now my dog? You’re a dead man if you hurt him.”
“It’s just an animal,” Ollie laughs wildly. “Who knew you were such a softie?”
“Tommy,” I whisper, nodding to the ground floor.
A few men have emerged. They’re skinny and have sunken cheeks, but another appears behind them. Somehow, I know he’s the head drug dealer or maybe the owner of this sad place. He doesn’t look strung out. He’s bald and almost as tall and wide as Tommy.
“What’s this shit?” he snaps, walking into the messy yard.
“Your mate’s getting ready to do something stupid,” Tommy grunts.
“Back up,” Steve says from behind us when the man looks as if he’s going to walk right up to us.
The man pauses and laughs harshly. There’s something about how he wears his leather jacket like he thinks he’s the coolest person alive. “Easy, I’m not trying to steal your pig.”