Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 126564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
“But in Los Angeles, he can,” Hallie finished for me.
I nodded. “And he knows I’m with you, which makes you a target, too.”
“Have you ever spoken to anyone about what happened?”
Shaking my head, I let out a soft chuckle. “Who would I talk to? My friend, Law, knows some of the story, but he has his own shit to take care of. Family. A job. He doesn’t have time to be my therapist. Tom’s great, but he is one of Moruzzi’s children. Tom wouldn’t see it as a big deal. We’ve both done some pretty fucked-up shit.”
“You must have more people who care about you.”
“Must I, now?” I gave her a crooked grin.
“Ransom…” She unbuckled her safety belt, shooting to her feet and stepping toward me. She perched her ass on my lap, tucking her chin over the top of my head as she hugged me. “I hate that you’ve been through all this, but I also loathe that you’ve only told me about it right now. That was really stupid.”
“I’m well aware.” My arms circled her waist, an instinct more than anything else. I didn’t speak.
“Look at me now.” She grabbed my face, angling it so our eyes met. “You’re not a monster.”
I smiled grimly. “Spare me the Days of Our Lives moment. I am, and I’ve learned to live with it.”
“You’re not a monster,” she repeated. “You made a mistake. A horrible, innocent mistake. No part of you wanted to kill that child. None.”
I closed my eyes, envisioning the little pudgy thing. I didn’t know how much of it was true and how much was my imagination. The round cheeks. The pillowy rolls on his legs.
“You’re not a monster,” she repeated, louder this time. “You, Ransom Lockwood, will never, ever, ever convince me that you’re a monster.”
It undid me. My face felt hot and wet. Was I…was I crying? What the fuck? I never cried. I doubted I’d cried even as an infant, since the day I was left on that church’s steps.
“They slaughtered my former boss, Ian Holmes. Buried him in his backyard. Kozlov killed a lot of people, Hallie. And none of them deserved it. He needs to be stopped, and it ruins me to know I’m not the man to stop him.”
“It’s not your job to save the world.” She stroked my cheeks, and at that moment, for a brief second, I believed her.
“Don’t fight the emotions you’re experiencing. Feel them.” She kissed my temple, the crown of my head, the tip of my nose. “You’ve been through horrible trauma. You’re allowed to break. Breaking can be good. It gives you the opportunity to reassemble yourself from scratch.”
I looked up at her, catching her lips with mine. It was going to be torture to say goodbye to this woman.
But I was going to do it anyway, when our six months were up.
She deserved much more than I had to give.
We held hands on the drive back to her place, marking the first time I’d held hands with a woman instead of holding someone’s hands above their head. I didn’t hate it. Maybe Hallie was right. Perhaps I, The Robot, could let myself feel every once in a while.
“I think I’ll look at places outside of Los Angeles,” Hallie said as we neared her neighborhood.
“Thank you,” I said quietly, knowing it was because of me. Because of my bullshit, my sins, my mistakes.
“What about Dennis and Ethel?” She sniffed.
I stared at her blankly. Who the fuck were they, her chia pets?
“My driver and his wife,” she explained. “I won’t be able to afford Dennis’ services anymore. They need the income.”
She cared about others. Deeply. It was hard to remember why I’d ever thought she was a shallow little tart.
“Do you have any idea how old Dennis is?”
She shook her head. I did. I knew. Because I’d had every part of her life examined to a T before I flew to Los Angeles.
“He’s sixty-eight.”
“Okay…”
“He doesn’t want to work anymore. He wants to retire.”
Anthony Thorne told me as much on our phone call prior to my taking the job.
“He does?” She winced. “But then… why did he stay?”
“Because of you. He loves you like a granddaughter. I sent him on vacation not as punishment, but because he was exhausted. You were out and about all hours of the night. He couldn’t keep up—he’s not a teenager.”
“How had I not noticed that?” she murmured. “I’ve been a terrible brat.”
“Not so terrible. But a brat, indeed.” I squeezed her hand.
The driver slowed as he approached her neighborhood. Hallie entered the code to open up the gate. It had been a short trip, but it sure packed one hell of a punch.
“That’s weird.” Hallie looked outside the passenger window, craning her neck slightly. “There’s a car I don’t know parked outside my house.”