Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
I should probably do that first before I go to see my father, knowing that’s going to be the first thing he asks. I may be his son, but my mom is his world, and he does not tolerate any sort of disrespect toward her. She could blow up the entire planet and he would go to bat for her. I can’t blame him; I can now admit to feeling the exact same way when it comes to Bonte.
I take the back stairs that lead to the mudroom and kitchen. My foot barely hits the bottom steps, and a hand wraps around my throat. On instinct I do the same, my other hand grabbing his shoulder as my father does the same. This isn’t the first time we’ve been in this predicament. We have all trained together over the years.
Dad steps in, and I let him push me, my back coming flush to the wall. “You don’t talk to your mom that way.”
“I won’t if everyone keeps their hands off Bonte.”
“No one is going to touch your girl again. She apologized.” Dad's stare bores into me.
“I’ll talk to Mom.”
“Good.” Dad smirks, and I kick my foot out, grabbing his. He doesn’t release his hold, taking me down to the floor with him. “Nice break.” Dad chuckles, and we both release the other. “Getting too old for this shit.”
“What are you two doing?” Mom asks, hands on her hips, staring down at us. We both come to our feet.
“I shouldn’t have snapped at you,” I tell her.
“It’s okay, isn’t it?” Mom looks to Dad.
“Yes.”
Mom nods. “It’s what you’re supposed to do.” Mom is now full-on smiling, and so is Dad.
You always stand up for your girl. I suppose that is what they taught us by example. Dad grabs my shoulder, pulling me in for a one-handed hug, which I return. "Now you two go do whatever it is you need to do while I make dinner." Mom lets out a small huff. "Okay, while I oversee what we're having for dinner. I want it to be nice. We have guests."
"Guests?" I ask.
"Right, 'guests' is the wrong word, but I still want to make it extra nice." Mom's mouth turns down. "I didn't want to scare her any more than I already have. Not sure what I was thinking."
"You were thinking you'd never get Eros to willingly meet her, and that was a sure way to make it happen." Dad pulls Mom into his side.
That is true.
"Bonte will come around. She's on overload right now. She’s crashed out in bed."
"Bonte, that's her real name?" I nod at Mom's question. "You know, your father’s dad was a bit crazy too."
Dad had watched his father kill his mother. It's how he came to live with Mom's parents. They'd raised him as well.
"I think everyone in this family has some crazy in them," I mutter.
"Just saying." Mom shrugs. "I knew she'd fit with us. It was in her eyes."
"Are you saying she's crazy too?" I shake my head.
"Gosh, I hope so."
I crack a smile. My mom’s responses never cease to amaze me.
"Come on. Let's talk," Dad says before dropping a kiss onto Mom before we both head to his office.
"Where did Mac and Naomi go?"
"They're around, but I wanted to fill you in more on what's happening, or rather, what's not happening."
"What does that mean?"
Dad takes a seat behind his desk. “We’d already been digging into Blair.” He pauses. “Bonte?”
“I’m not sure which she prefers, but I’ll ask.” I’ve been calling her Bonte, and she seemed fine with it.
“All right, but I was digging before she was yours.” I nod in understanding. It’s the way of things. When you get close to the family, you’re checked into. Plus, all the other shit that had been happening around my brothers and Kinsley had them digging deeper. “Once I heard you took off with her, I started checking the feeds in her building.”
He turns the screen partly so I can view it with him. “There is this strange gap of missing footage. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”
“I know a lot of things.”
“Isn’t that the fucking truth?” Dad chuckles. Ever since I was a kid, I sucked up information. It didn’t matter what it was. I read a shit ton. “Here.” He pushes through the feed, and that’s when we see the man enter her condo. He’s got a hood over his head, and you can’t make out who he is, but we all know it’s Bonte’s dad.
“How long was he in there?”
“Thirty minutes.” He speeds it up; only this time when Silas comes out of the condo, his hood is down, and he looks directly into the camera. You can see blood spattered across his face. Then he smirks before he takes the stairs down. “He wanted them to know he was there.”