Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 102335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
“You’re free, Wicked.”
“You told me you would give me Skully.” I say, but stepping closer to the door, afraid it will close. That first brush of air flicks over my skin and I close my eyes to feel it whistle through my bloodstream and calm me.
“And I will. In time. For now? You’re free.”
I jolt forward, not bothering to get any of my clothes. I run so fast the wind slaps me across my face. I continue running through the dirty tracks until I come to a grass opening and field. I don’t want to go toward the asylum where he is. I wanted out this way. I needed it. To feel dirt between my toes and the air massaging my skin.
I stop when I reach a wired fence, grabbing it in my palms and ignoring when the stabs of barbed wire rip through them. I keep running. To feel blood finally rushing through my body as if it has been vacant all along. Headlights flash past up ahead and I know that I’m close to a road. A busy road. I keep running, shoving through fallen branches and dodging tree trunks. I tear through a clearing and pause when I see a car idling on the curbside. Blacked out windows on a BMW isn’t what has me stopping. It’s when the door opens and the man who comes out stares back at me.
“Royce?”
He nudges his head to the car. “Brother.”
Time stands still when you’re waiting for death. The words replay in my mind like a bad song that won’t get out. A song with no tune, no melody, no lyricism. Death is God’s way of regaining control. As if He needed a reminder because He knew that for years, it was Papa that held all of the control. It is Papa who owns all of the control. It has been one whole year since I gave Papa that envelope, and I still don’t know what was inside of it.
“Principessa…” Mama’s voice filters through the room and I turn slightly to face her. She stops at the threshold of the door, as if she knows how much they’ve taken from me but do it anyway.
Mama straightens her shoulders and continues all the way into the bedroom in my penthouse apartment in the city. It is fitting for them to do this for me. Keep me in Chicago for the reasons Papa always threatens. I know the threats aren’t empty, and yet here we are, staring at each other because we both know.
We know that all of the threats over the year, the things we both did, mean nothing. Nothing because now? Now Papa is dead.
“I need you back at the house, Ruby. You don’t need to be here anymore—”
I cut her off, tilting my head. “Papa wouldn’t want me there.” I don’t bother to wait for her to answer, shifting my weight around to look through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows that overlook the city below. “He hated me toward the end.”
“He didn’t hate you, Ruby!” Mama scolds, entering into my space. I can feel her anxiety shiver over me as she lowers herself down onto my bed. “He didn’t understand you, and that is different from hate.”
“I can’t do this…” I whisper so harshly I almost choke on the words. “I can’t—”
Warm hands come to my cheeks and it is then that I realize I’m crying. I turn my eyes back to hers. “Mama, I can’t do this. I am not him. I can’t—”
“Ruby!” Her hard tone shakes me. A wake-up, if you will. I knew my obligations and agreed to them a long time ago, but it doesn’t mean that I’m not scared. I’m allowed to be scared around Mama, right? That’s what she’s here for. To allow me to be able to be scared.
I’m not so sure anymore.
Her blue eyes soften as her hands fall to either side of her. “Pack what you both need and meet me downstairs.”
Before she reaches the door to my bedroom, I stop her. “And what about Wolf?”
“Your father wanted everything for that child, Ruby. It was you who took him away from us, so remember that as you move into your new position.” The door slams closed and a single tear falls from my eyes. I can hear him rolling around in his crib. Leaning over the edge, I smile down at him, picking his little body up from the mattress.
“Little wild one…” I press a gentle kiss on his forehead. “Sorry in advance for the family lineage you have and for the things I’m going to have to do to keep us safe.” I know as I whisper those words into his little bed of hair, that I’m not talking about Papa.
I watch the ice melt into the golden liquid in my glass. I don’t often think about my life leading up to the point where I was patched into Wolf Pack MC. Do I feel like a traitor? Fucking definitely, but my life before K Diamond doesn’t mean shit going forward. That everything in my life needs to be superficial because having anything of value only means people can take it.