The Guardian Read Online Georgia Le Carre

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Mafia, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
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In fact, I had invited no one, hoping I would be able to do this as intimately as possible and without any observers, but this courtesy, I realized, would not be given to me. From the moment I entered the cemetery, I ignored any person that came up to me with their empty platitudes, making the message clear, I didn’t want to talk to anyone.

My gaze never left my father’s casket while the prayers were recited and he was lowered to the ground.

It would be the last time I ever came close to experiencing his existence physically. Even though I tried to control myself as he disappeared into the ground, I couldn’t help the tears that filled my eyes and flowed down my face.

Antoine didn’t hold me. He knew I would have hated that. Instead, he edged closer, encouraging me to lean against him. I readily accepted the offer of support as my legs were close to giving out.

Soon enough it was over, and people began to go their separate ways.

My father’s secretary, Rosa, came up to me and this was one face at least I recognized. She gave me a warm, sweet hug, which I had no choice but to accept. Afterward, I knew she wanted to say more but after observing my frozen expression, she hesitated and then thankfully, went on her way after telling me she would be contacting me later on in the week with some information for me.

Papa’s business associates began to come up to me … and although I wanted to escape from them, I couldn’t help feeling as if that would be disrespectful to my father. I kept myself together until I couldn’t any longer. At that point, I looked to Antoine and he led me to the car while ensuring I wasn’t stopped on the way. Eventually, we were seated in the dark-tinted vehicle. The cop turned to face me.

“Ready to leave?”

I shook my head. I couldn’t stop staring at my father’s grave in the fields. “I want to wait here for a bit. I want to spend a little more time with him. Maybe you can take Antoine home and come pick me up later.”

"Sorry. Can’t leave you here,” he answered flatly.

“I’ll find my way back. You stay,” Antoine said and got out of the car.

It took about half an hour for the crowd to clear out. I was then able to return to the grave site in peace.

I sat on the grass and began to whisper to him. I found that although there were a thousand things I wanted to share with him, the only ones that bubbled up clearly and irrevocably were four words.

“I miss you, Papa.”

The dam broke with those four words. I poured out everything I felt in my heart until I realized I was no longer alone. Something about the way this person moved made me freeze. The hairs at the back of my neck stood and I stopped breathing. The steps behind me were incredibly quiet and controlled. I waited, hoping I was just imagining things. It was just someone passing by.

I wasn’t.

I heard the crackle of dry leaves behind me … much too close. Instinctively, I jumped up and whirled around, but my fear-fueled reaction was so sudden I couldn’t maintain my balance and I felt myself begin to fall backwards. Before I could land on my ass on the grass, a solid grip caught my hand and pulled me upright.

For a second, I thought I was losing my mind as I looked up and saw the face before me. The sun in the sky slightly hindered my vision for a moment, but soon it cleared and my vision was perfect.

He towered over me and I recognized him instantly. I stared at him in shock. God, he looked even more like a beautiful avenging angel than I remembered. All I could do was stare stupidly up at him until he broke the spell by speaking.

“Are you alright?”

“No,” I said and rudely pulled my hand away.

I saw him stiffen and instantly hatred filled me. “I guess you had to come, right? To see the results of your handiwork?”

I was so sarcastic that for a moment even I was shocked. I hadn’t meant to say that to him because even in my grieving state, I knew it was not his fault, but I still couldn’t help the resentment I felt when I saw him look so strong, vibrant and alive just after I’d buried Papa. The air between us crackled with tension, resentment, and … something else. I felt my heart beating erratically in my chest.

Suddenly he glanced away from me towards my father’s grave and I could see for a moment the sadness on his face. Then it was gone, and he continued speaking as if I’d never uttered my ugly comment.


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