Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
He closed his eyes and squeezed the back of the chair across from me. The way he was looming over me, so suddenly angry, made me want to run. It was the first time I’d been seriously afraid of him since the day he’d agreed to let me work at Pound.
“Did he ever take you to work with him?” Val’s voice was even now, some of the tension seemed to have drained from him. “Or talk to you about his work?”
“No, he didn’t really share things with us. He was a decent dad, but he wasn’t very involved. All I knew was he went to the office in the morning and came home at night. I wasn’t really interested in the intricacies of it. His work sounded pretty boring.”
Val looked like he was trying not to smile, which made me feel a little better. “Please tell me what’s going on.”
Val ignored me. “Did he go on business trips?”
“Why are you interested in my father?”
“You truly have no idea?”
“No, I don’t. He occasionally went to conferences or to visit clients. He was in corporate accounting, I think.” Why did I not know more? Was that weird?
Val shook his head. “Your father wasn’t really an accountant. That was a cover. He was a man much like me, except he worked for the Irish.”
The room spun as my vision narrowed. Did I hear that right? My father was a mobster? No. It couldn’t be true. “I…I think you’re confused.”
“The accident wasn’t an accident; it was murder.”
I shook my head. “No.” My heart pounded so I hard I thought it might explode. “No, that can’t be true.”
Suddenly Val was there on his knees in front of me he took hold of my hands and pulled them from my face. “Focus on me.”
I tried but the room was spinning too fast.
I stared into Val’s eyes. He was speaking but I couldn’t hear the words, then the darkness closed in and there was nothing.
The first thing I noticed when I woke up was a ceiling fan above my head and a cold sensation on my forehead.
“Liam? Thank God you’re awake.” It was Val. I realized he was sitting next to me.
“What happened?”
“You passed out? Do you remember?” He lifted the cold cloth for my forehead and drew it across my cheeks and over my throat. “Do you need some water?”
“No. Maybe.” Everything came back to me slowly. Val got a call from Vito, and he was angry with me, but I didn’t know why. Then he told me my father wasn’t who I thought he was. “I think I remember now.”
“I’m so sorry I was angry with you. I thought…For a moment, I thought you knew everything and that you were playing with me.”
“Did you really think I could hide something like that from you?”
“I shouldn’t have it’s just…You asked me why I would fall for you, but that question seems so crazy to me because why would I not? You’re kind and caring, and I’m like I am. My world is full of torture, death, and betrayal. It changes how you see things. I’m everything you don’t want, so I can’t see why you would want to be with me if you don’t have an ulterior motive.”
Was he crying? I reached out, brushing my hand across his cheek and coming back with wetness on my thumb.
“Val, it’s okay.”
He shook his head, slipped from the bed, and went down on his knees. I sat up and stared at him in disbelief. He took both my hands in his and held them tight. “Forgive me. I was scared that I was losing you, that I’d imagined all this between us.”
“Of course I forgive you.” I didn’t even think before the words were out. Val had actually just admitted he was scared. I knew that that to be extremely rare for him.
“I’m so sorry. I should’ve told you the news another way.”
That this strong, powerful man was asking for my forgiveness nearly made me pass out again. I understood the enormity of his apology, and it made me think he might actually feel as strongly as I did. Maybe this was real after all.
Except, apparently, nothing else in my life was.
When I finished the water and the chocolate bar Val insisted on bringing me, he carried me to the couch. I sat back, and he pulled my legs into his lap so I could turn and look at him.
“I want to know everything.” I said. “How did you find all this out?”
“I’m going to start from the beginning. When you told me the story about the accident, the name John O’Keefe rang a bell. But I figured there had to be an untold number of John O’Keefes in the city. What were the chances your father’s boss was the one I was thinking of, the one with criminal connections? But when you described the circumstances of the accident—the car coming out of nowhere, the way it seemed to accelerate—something didn’t sit right with me.”