Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 94513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
I drank the last of my milk just as heavy footsteps entered the kitchen. Turning, I watched as Linc came inside the room.
His gaze went to Wilma, and he nodded. “Good morning, Wilma.”
“Morning, sir. Can I get you anything?”
“No thank you,” he replied, and his focus shifted to me. “When you are finished, I’d like to speak with you.”
The food I’d just enjoyed morphed into a rock, sitting in the pit of my stomach. I had managed to shut off all thoughts of the things he’d told me the last time he’d wanted to talk to me. Instead, I had started taking it one day at a time, focusing on my pregnancy and doing what all my prenatal book told me to do. But there was always the dark truth lurking on the outer edges. My family. Ares. What I’d learned and what I hadn’t because I ran from the room, unable to handle any more.
I was here because Crosby was dead. Forgetting the reasons and actions that had brought me here helped me get through this week. I knew by Linc’s solemn expression that he was about to bring it all back, front and center.
I used the napkin in my lap, then placed it on the plate. “I’m done,” I told him.
His eyes dropped to the counter, as if making sure I had eaten. “If you’ll come with me,” he said, lifting his gaze back to my face.
I glanced over at Wilma, who had moved on to a bowl and was mixing things, not looking at either one of us. “Thank you for my breakfast,” I told her.
She nodded her head once, but didn’t look my way or say a word.
Walking toward the door where Linc waited, I began to mentally prepare myself for whatever he had to tell me. Ares was probably dead. No one here had mentioned it or even brought him up, but if they knew where he was, then Bane hadn’t let him live long after that. It was a struggle for me. I wanted to cry for the brother of my childhood. The one person who cared about me. But what I’d heard on that phone call made my stomach turn and caused all those memories to become something sickening.
Would they tell Iris or Nick about his death? What would they do with the body? Leave it like they had with Ronnie and Nicco, for someone to find eventually?
These were things I fought against when I went to bed at night. I refused to think of them and thought about my son. What he would look like. Holding him the first time. Those were the images I went to sleep with, which I thought might be why I’d stopped having the nightmares. It might be the meds, but I was sure having happy thoughts as I drifted off helped.
I followed Linc out of the kitchen and down the hallway that led to the office I had been in before. Linc opened the door once we reached it and went inside. I did the same, hoping I didn’t end up running to the toilet again. I had to be strong enough to hear what he had to tell me. If I acted like none of it had happened, I was just delaying facing reality. One day, I would have to know.
My fear that the police would come for me over Ronnie’s and Nicco’s deaths had faded once I learned who and what the family was. They were used to dealing with that kind of thing, and I no longer stayed on edge, fearing that I was going to prison.
My eyes met Bane’s as he stood against the wall to my right with his arms crossed over his chest. Knowing he was here gave me an instant sense of support that it probably shouldn’t. My hormones were clearly confused. The cold greeting I received from him proved that my pregnancy brain was messed up. He shifted his focus back to the window as he took a drink from the glass in his hand. The fact that he was drinking whiskey before noon wasn’t a good sign.
Movement from the other side of the room caught my attention, and I realized Luther was also here. All I’d seen was Bane. Unfortunately, more and more lately, I’d seemed to be seeking him out, not thinking about it. I didn’t want to do it, but I just did. I also didn’t want my body reacting to seeing him, but, oh, it did. This week, it had been getting worse every day.
I started to ask if I should close the door when another man walked inside. I took a step back, startled. Unable to stop staring at the man, I barely blinked as his eyes locked with mine. He was older—close to Linc’s age, I would guess. His hair was darker, but there were gold highlights in it, making me think it had once been blond. The tanned skin, hard line of his mouth, and heavier facial hair than the other men weren’t what was holding me there. It was his eyes. They were Crosby’s eyes.