Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 167819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 839(@200wpm)___ 671(@250wpm)___ 559(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 167819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 839(@200wpm)___ 671(@250wpm)___ 559(@300wpm)
“What do you mean your wife?” my father snaps, as if his brain is slow at processing the situation he’s found himself in.
“We’ve been married for weeks,” Elli states, lifting her chin. I’ve never been prouder of her.
Linc softly cries, “Shit.”
“Shit is right, you son of a bitch.” I push the end of my barrel into the back of his head. “You fucked my wife in her bedroom. And you know what happens to a Lord who touches a Lady that doesn’t belong to him?”
He whimpers and I smile.
“Just wait…” my father snaps. “Just wait a second. I didn’t sign off on you marrying this fucking whore.”
I slam the gun into the side of his head, knocking him to his knees. “I didn’t need your permission,” I growl.
“Laura wanted her to marry him,” Linc states, watching my father get to his feet, blood now running down his face. “You said no.”
“I didn’t want him marrying her,” he snaps at Linc.
“Because you wanted her,” I add.
My father turns to face me, eyes narrowed. “Why would I fucking want that trash?” He points over at my wife and I hit him again, knocking him back into the side of the counter. “Fuck, Easton—”
“I know about your house,” I inform him. “The one you and James took her to.”
His face pales and I hit him again. “Did you rape my wife?”
“No.” He spits out blood onto the white marble countertop.
“Don’t fucking lie to me.” I hit him again and he stumbles back. “Tell me the truth!” I’m screaming, blood rushing in my ears, heart pounding. I know the answer, but I want to hear the bastard admit it.
Hitting him once more, he falls to his knees. I walk up to him, grab his hair with my bloody knuckles, and yank his head back, making him look at her as she stands by the island, gun still in her hand down at her side. I hold mine to his head, pressed into his temple. “Tell me the fucking truth,” I demand.
He sucks in a deep breath before spitting out blood. “The truth?” he growls. “The truth is that she had the tightest fucking cunt—”
I slam his head into the edge of the counter while watching him fall to the floor, now coughing up blood. I kick him in the stomach, making him curl up into the fetal position. I stomp on his side.
“Easton?”
“What?” I shout, turning to see my father-in-law now standing in the kitchen. Linc stares at Nicholas wide-eyed as if he’s seen a ghost.
“What the fuck is going on?” Linc whispers to himself. We both ignore him.
“Elli,” he says softly, nodding behind me.
I turn to see her sitting on the kitchen floor, arms wrapped around her legs, staring at my father while tears run down her face. Walking away from my father to let hers deal with him, I go to my wife.
I drop to my knees in front of her and she lets go of the gun as it clanks to the floor. She lunges for me, wrapping her arms around my neck, and I pull her into my lap to where her legs wrap around my waist. I grab the back of her head and wrap the other around her waist and begin to rock her back and forth while her cries fill the kitchen.
“I’m … so sorry.” She sobs into my neck.
I hold her, my chest tightening. I needed to know. I wanted him to confess, but I never thought what it would do to her. Was she better off not knowing? Maybe, maybe not.
“I’m so sorry,” she goes on.
“Shh.” I run my hand down the back of her head. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Elli,” I remind her. “You did good, little demon.” I kiss her hair. “So good.” I’m glad it’s over. There’s only one more person that we need to take care of and then I can spend a couple of days with my wife before I have to leave her for good.
ELLINGTON
I STAND IN my parents’ house, staring up at the balcony where I found my father nine years ago. There are no flowers, or candles lit today. Just a cold chill. There’s been one ever since that day. I’m not sure if it’s in my head or if it’s real but it still lingers.
I stare at the man hanging from the second-story balcony. He’s not dead. Not yet anyway. His feet barely touch the chair that’s underneath him. His arms are tied behind his back, a rope around his neck.
Looking up at Linc, I feel a sense of calmness wash over me. After Sin forced his father to confess an hour ago, I cried. Sobbed my eyes out on the kitchen floor in my husband’s lap. It was therapeutic. I understand I can’t change the past, but I’m also very thankful that it doesn’t change his love for me.