Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 52260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Carly wandered in after around fifteen minutes. “Smells great,” she said, making her way to the window near the kitchen area and staring out warily.
“Carly, c’mere,” I encouraged. She turned around and walked over, straight into the arm I’d held open for her. I pulled her close and kissed her temple. “You’re safe, kitten,” I reassured her. “I’m here, and I’ve got guys watching the building.” I felt her shoulders droop slightly as she relaxed. Kissing her temple again, I held a spoon of the sauce I was stirring to her mouth. She put her mouth around it and just like that, I was hard as fuck again.
“Damn, Brandon. It’s so good,” she moaned. Special, I reminded myself as I guided her to a chair at the kitchen table, saying a prayer to the Virgin Mary. Seemed appropriate considering the circumstances.
“Tell me about how you know Nic and why you decided to help him.” Nic had told me some, but I wanted to hear the full story from Carly.
“What do you want to know?” she asked guardedly.
I frowned at her. “All of it. Start from the beginning.”
She sighed and put an elbow on the table, resting her chin in her hand, watching me as I moved around preparing the food.
“You know about my childhood, mostly. I was home schooled, for lack of a better term,” she spit acidly. “So, I didn’t have a lot of friends, only the kids of my father’s”—she made air quotes—“‘trusted’ men. However, he still made sure I went to Sunday school, needing to keep up appearances and all. We couldn’t have Father Gannon damning him to Hell,” she sneered, rolling her eyes. “As though he doesn’t already have a personally engraved throne at the devil’s side.”
I put the breaded chicken and French bread in the oven and sat at the table with her. Picking up the clenched fist in her lap, I pulled her fingers apart and began to massage her hand.
She sighed, her eyes closing in bliss. “Wow, who knew a simple hand massage could cause such comfort?” she said with surprise.
I smiled. “My mother used to do it for me and my brothers when we were sick.”
Carly’s eyes softened and the sides of her lips turned up. “That’s really sweet.”
“I’m a sweet guy,” I quipped, earning myself an eye roll and a chuckle.
“Anyway, I met a girl who had an Italian father and an Irish mother. Meagan’s mother was considered a traitor and disowned by her family, but she still brought her daughter to Father Gannon’s Sunday school classes. As we got older, we got creative in keeping in touch and stayed friends.” Carly cast her eyes down and dropped her other hand to the table, drawing circles with her finger. I gave her hand a deliberate squeeze to remind her I was with her and urge her to continue.
Meagan was Enzo’s cousin, but her father worked with Nic’s uncle Antonio in one of our legit businesses, and I didn’t know either of them well.
“One day, I don’t even remember what I did, I pissed off my da and he beat the shit out of me.” She flinched, and I realized I’d gripped her hand hard and immediately gentled my touch. “He locked me in the basement of our house, but Tommy had taught me to pick a lock, so my da had no idea I often slipped out of the cellar door. I couldn’t go anywhere, but stepping into the open and the fresh air kept me from going insane.”
She suddenly withdrew her hand from mine and stood, pacing to the window, but I could tell she wasn’t seeing anything beyond the glass.
“I don’t—I don’t like dark, small spaces,” she admitted with a shudder. “I was sitting at the top of the stairs when I heard yelling through an open window a few floors up. My da was arguing with another man. They were fighting over the price of a new shipment.” She turned and faced me, her eyes full of rage. “A shipment of girls.”
Nic had told me the O’Reillys were moving into the slave trade, but I hadn’t realized the information had come from Carly. A pang of regret hit me for the way I’d, kind of, accused her of betraying us. It was in the past though, and we were moving forward.
“I wanted to tell Tommy, but I knew him too well. He would have tried to save the day and gotten himself killed. But, I needed to tell someone. So, the next time I met Meagan at the market, I confessed it all to her. She begged me to let her tell Nic. She swore he would help, that I could trust him.”
She shook her head ruefully. “It took her some time to convince me. No matter how awful my family is, I was raised to believe the DeLucas were the enemy. That they were as evil as mine.” She looked up at me, her eyes pleading for understanding. A lump formed in my throat as it hit me how much guilt she was carrying. I stood and went to her, pulling her into my arms, and kissing her head.