Total pages in book: 175
Estimated words: 164346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 822(@200wpm)___ 657(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 822(@200wpm)___ 657(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
Her eyes go to her father, but he’s too big of a coward to face her. Instead, he’s staring at the floor, rubbing his neck. “When we got back from the assignment, Matt was put on probation. Then come the following year, two weeks before classes started, I had just taken my oath, your father called me to meet him and told me I had to choose you.”
“I was trying to save you from Matt.” Her father’s voice breaks as he speaks up. “We knew he killed LeAnne.” He pauses. “And needed time to prove it.”
I can feel his eyes drilling holes in the back of my head as I sit facing my wife. They thought they could talk me down, break me into giving him up, but it wasn’t going to happen. Not then and not now. That is what confession is for. When I string Matt up like Tyson suggested at the cathedral, Matt will not only spill blood, but all of his secrets to a room full of Lords. He will be the one who tells everyone what he did that night.
“So”—her brows scrunch together—“Matt killed the Lord’s wife?”
“Yes,” her father growls. “She was my chosen … and your mother. I loved her.” His voice drops to a whisper. “Still do.”
I almost feel sorry for the bastard. Silence falls over the room again, and the first tear rolls down her bruised cheek.
I hear her father sigh. “Blakely, you have to understand—”
“Please leave,” she whispers, interrupting him.
He comes around to the opposite side of her. “I know you’re upset …”
“Please.” She ignores him, her pretty blue eyes meeting mine. “Please make them leave.”
I release her hand and stand, facing her father. “Do I need to show you the way out?” I arch a brow at him.
He straightens his shoulders and grabs his suit jacket and tie off the back of the chair and storms out. My father goes along with him.
Leaning down, I kiss her forehead. “I’ll be right back.”
Rushing down the hallway, I come to the nurses’ station to see them spot me.
Her father sighs. “Ryat, when you’re a father, you’ll understand.”
I step into him, my chest hitting his. “You need to understand the next time I have a meeting with you in downtown Dallas at two o’clock in the morning, I’m going to knock you the fuck out.”
“Ryat,” my father hisses.
Like I give a fuck what he has to say. I don’t. He knew all this time why Mr. Anderson wanted me to choose his daughter. My father never questioned that. He even called me after the ceremony to make sure it was Blake. When in New York, he asked me how much I would offer for her … and I’d bet my life that’s why he didn’t force me to marry Cindy. This was their plan.
My hands fist, and I think about just doing it right now. Why the fuck wait until God knows when? But I catch sight of Miss Bleach Blond behind the nurses’ station with the phone up to her ear and her wide eyes on me. She’s probably already got security on speed dial. The bitch has been staring me down since I broke the vending machine a couple of days ago. So, instead I step away. “I want these men removed from the list of visitors for my wife’s room. They’re no longer allowed.”
“Ryat,” her father growls. “You can’t keep me from her.”
“Watch me.” Then I turn around and go back to her room. Entering, I find her on her side in the fetal position with her back to me, crying. I turn off the main light and go over to her bed. When I crawl into it with her, she turns over and snuggles into me, crying harder.
“Shh.” I try to calm her by rubbing her back. Knowing if she cries too hard, she’s going to give herself another headache
BLAKELY
WALKING INTO THE cabin feels … different. There are black curtains up that hang from the ceiling, covering all the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the woods. It makes the place look darker. Reminds me of Blackout.
“When did you put these up?” I ask.
He places my bag that Sarah had brought to the hospital for me down on the coffee table. “I had Gunner and Prickett do it while we were staying at the club.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought maybe Matt was hanging out around here, and I didn’t want him seeing inside the house.”
I nod in understanding.
Sighing, he comes over to me and kisses my hair. “They won’t be here forever,” he promises as if he can tell that I hate them.
He walks into the kitchen, and I make my way to the bathroom, wanting to take a hot bath. I’m mentally and physically drained. Getting undressed, I remove my shirt, then shove my shorts down my legs along with my underwear. I turn and stand in front of the mirror. I haven’t looked at myself since Matt slammed my face into the steering wheel. I didn’t want to have to see what I already knew—he made me ugly.