Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 131455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
“I get it. I wouldn't want to look at any of them.” The memory of walking through and feeling the weight of their stares is still fresh. Wondering which one of them was dishonest, which one stood back and let my father suffer. I'd go crazy if I were in his shoes. “But you do have skills. Training. I'd hate to see it all go to waste.”
“It just so happens I'm putting those skills to work at a new job.” He holds up a hand when I can't help reacting with excitement. “Don't go overboard. It's employment, and I'm glad to have it, but let's not act like I achieved something special.”
“What are you doing? Where is it?”
“Overnight security at an office building downtown. Nothing too strenuous, but the pay is good and it's quiet.”
“Do you like it?”
He frowns but nods. “I guess I do. It's nothing special, though it's a good living. I'm sure I'll start reading a hell of a lot more.”
“That's great! I don't have to worry about you anymore.” And when I say it out loud, I realize how true the statement is. I don't have to worry about him. He pulled himself together—as much as he could, anyway. He's still got all kinds of questions and confusion hanging over his head, most of which has to do with Mom, but he's taking steps to move forward after almost burning his whole life to the ground.
Once I've finished eating, he takes the plate and washes it. “I have something to show you. Something I've been working on.”
“Oh?” If he takes me down to his office to show off that nightmare of a corkboard, I might scream.
“Upstairs.” Okay, at least that rules out his office. “Come see.”
He seems happy… ish. Upbeat. It's enough to keep my anxiety from growing out of control as I follow him from the kitchen to the stairs. I have to stop worrying about him, but then again, it's not like he hasn't given me any reason to.
He leads me to my old bedroom, where I pull up short in surprise at what I find inside. “When did you—” Of course. This is why he was going through things and found the camera.
Running a hand over the crib that now stands in the corner where my bookcase used to live, he explains, “I pulled out the baby furniture from the attic. Your old crib, the changing table, the rocking chair.”
“I can see that.” The bed and dresser are still in their place, but the rest of the room looks more like a nursery. “What brought this on?”
“I thought you might want to bring the baby around for a visit occasionally.” There's hope in his voice, small and shy but undoubtedly present. He straightens out the cheerful flowered sheet in the crib, then props a teddy bear up in the corner. “I wanted them to have someplace to sleep. I'm looking forward to meeting them. I want you to know that. This baby is going to have a lot of love around them.”
“Oh, Dad.” That's as much as I can choke out before I throw my arms around him. “Thank you. I was so worried you would have weird, mixed feelings about the baby because of Callum.”
“Let's just say I never saw myself getting linked to him in such a permanent way.” He chuckles, chagrined, while stroking my hair. “But this baby is a blessing. And I want nothing but the best for both of you.”
“Thank you.”
“Keep in mind I plan to spoil the hell out of this kid.”
I close my eyes as the last of the tension I was holding drains out of me. “I would expect nothing less.”
CALLUM
“That's three shipments overhauled in the past week.” Romero arches an eyebrow when he turns away from the window. “I think you've made your point. We'll be lucky if the bastard doesn't blow us up.”
“It's not enough.” I push back from my desk, where we've wrapped up a call with our trucking contact. They recently sent a crew to intercept a shipment of electronics which now belongs to us. “Not until I hold that fucker's beating heart in my hands.”
“You want to move on to step three, then?”
“Hell, yes.” The thought makes me smile. “I hope Moroni isn't too attached to his fleet of trucks.”
“This is going to put that warehouse fire to shame. Sixty trucks, five garages?”
Yes, and it's a way of proving to Sebastian that I'm willing to sacrifice what was supposed to go to me once the smoke clears. We're still not on what anyone would call friendly terms after he pulled a gun on my right-hand man in my home, but we don't need to be friends to work together. “It'll get the point across.”
Romero checks his phone, frowning. “What's taking him so long? He seemed to be in a hell of a hurry when I called him after our call started wrapping up. He said he'd be here as soon as possible.”