Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 120186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Though really, there’s nothing funny about this. Allie’s safety is on the line. She’s probably scared as hell, and I have to make sure it never happens again.
I’ve already made up my mind by the time I finish my drink and go outside. The silver truck is gone, but I’m sure it’ll be around. In the meantime, I pull out the burner phone to call Allie. The sound of her voice unlocks the tension in my shoulders and slows my heart rate. That’s what she does to me.
“You doing okay, little filly?” I ask, crossing the lot.
This is just as much for me as it is for her.
I let her voice soothe the edges of my anger as I climb into the truck.
It’s a quick call. Enough to relax both of us. Enough to allow me to focus more on the situation at hand and what I need to do next.
I almost hope I have the chance to prove to Joseph Lowry once and for all that no one touches what’s mine.
Chapter 26
Kade
It’s nice to get out of bed without being bullied. To get up because there’s something important to me, something I need to do.
I gotta check on Allie, and I need to find these Utah fuckers and make sure they don’t get any ideas about harassing her. And then there’s that idea that’s been prickling in the back of my head ever since Allie told me the real story of why Emma set up her marriage. That’s not something I can settle on my own, but I want to get my shit together before I take it to my brothers. I want to be prepared.
When I go downstairs, showered, shaved, and dressed, Elena is in the kitchen. I never did eat last night like I meant to. Now my stomach is growling.
Elena is dressed the way she was at dinner a couple of weeks ago, in a floral-print dress with a cardigan over it and flat-soled boots. There’s color in her cheeks and a smile on her face when she turns from the stove at the sound of my footsteps. “Good morning.”
“Good morning.” I still don’t know how to act around her. I’m not used to her being so alive. All it took was his death.
“Hungry? Your brothers already ate before heading out. I was about to fix myself something. I would be glad to whip something up for you, too.”
Why do I feel like she needs this? Because everybody wants to feel useful. “Sure. Thanks.”
“You still like them over easy?” She lays strips of bacon in a hot pan before pulling out a carton of eggs.
I pour myself a cup of coffee, nodding before taking a seat at the table. “Yeah, I do.”
“Do you remember back when you used to make a face on your plate with your breakfast?” She laughs softly, flipping the bacon. “Eggs for the eyes, then bacon strips for the mouth. You would make it talk, and Levi would laugh at the voice you gave it.”
Now that she mentions it… “I haven’t thought about that in forever.” And I can’t remember the last time there was anything close to a natural, comfortable conversation in this kitchen.
“These are the things you remember as you’re watching somebody grow up.” In another pan, she cracks a couple of eggs. “When I look at you now, I see that little boy who just wants to make his brother laugh. Time is funny like that.”
“I should try it again, see if it would make him laugh this time.” We share a smile that feels both awkward and earned, somehow. The way people look at each other when they’ve both been through hell and somehow made it out the other side.
“I’ve noticed you’ve been out a lot lately,” she observes. “More so than usual. Are you doing all right?”
This is different. There was a time not so long ago when she didn’t dare ask questions like that. Not that any of us would have given her shit for it, but Roman would have.
“I think so.”
“I hope you are.”
It only feels right that I ask. “You?”
“A little better all the time.” She plates the eggs along with probably too much bacon and slides the food in front of me at the table, then adds toast. “Dig in.”
I think I needed this more than the food itself. Being reminded that even though I might have come from Emma, Elena is the woman with all of the memories. Somehow, she managed to hang on through years of hell, and there are still good memories she holds on to. There’s not a doubt in my mind that Roman thought she was weak—he never did have a high opinion of women in general. They were something to be owned. Something to breed. Over the years, he took whatever spark Elena had and crushed it, little by little.