Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 32295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Karina doesn't notice his eyes on her. She's staring at her father.
"Thank you," she whispers to him. Her words tremble but stand strong. "For everything."
Miles is a statue carved from granite, his hard eyes softening just enough to indicate he heard her. He nods, once, sharply. "You never should have been here in the first place, kid," he says.
I think it's the closest to an apology he's ever come.
His eyes find mine. "Get her out of here. We'll hold it down until the guns are out of play."
I nod, more than happy to get her the fuck out of here. And then I pause. "Our deal still stands."
"I know," he says. "I won't try to change it now."
"Come on," I urge, tugging Karina gently toward the doors and the freedom waiting beyond—freedom from this place, freedom from the past, and freedom from the sins of her father.
Chapter Twelve
Karina
Coda and I don't speak as we race through the murky early-dawn light toward his condo, but the silence between us isn't strained. It's peaceful, easy.
I forgave him hours ago…right about the time I realized there are bigger monsters in this city than he could ever be. He's flawed and imperfect, but he isn't evil, and I don't believe he set out to hurt me. If he had, I don't think he would have come to save me with my father at his side.
He would have left me there. But he didn't. Because that's not Coda. The man I love is dark and complicated, mired in shadow, but he's loyal. It hurts to know that he ever thought about using me. But can I really judge him so harshly?
He didn't know me. All he knew was the taste of vengeance. He'd carried it since he was a little boy. If it guided his hands the night we met, can I really castigate him for it?
No. If love isn't betrayal, it isn't demanding either. It doesn't expect perfection, especially from one who has never loved before. He's given me every piece of himself every step of the way.
He's loved me, fiercely, wildly, so perfectly that it hurts not to have his arms around me and his body moving against mine. He's protected me with the rage of an avenging angel—merciless and unyielding. And he's changed for me, in ways so profound I don't think he even realizes he's changed yet.
He isn't the same man I met at the party.
And I'm not that girl, either.
We're something different now. Something stronger. We built that together.
He pulls into the parking garage and kills the engine. Before I can reach for my seatbelt, he places his hand over mine. "I've got you, cara."
I meet his gaze and nod.
He circles around the SUV to me. My heart pounds as he pulls my door open and leans over me. His intoxicating scent—now laced with gunpowder—swirls around me.
His fingers brush my side as he unbuckles me, his trembling lips against my crown. "Senza di te non sono niente," he breathes.
I don't get a chance to ask what he means before he's lifting me out of the SUV into his arms.
He cradles me against his chest as he strides towards the elevator, his heart pounding in tandem with mine. The world is a blur around me, but his presence, his strength and warmth, ground me. He presses the button for our floor and the doors close around us, sealing us inside our own private sanctuary.
"I need to tell you something." His voice echoes softly within the confines of the elevator. "Something I should've told you a while ago."
I tip my head up to look at him, struck by the vulnerability in his stormy eyes. His jaw tenses as he gathers his words, his grip on me tightening as if to anchor himself.
But before he can continue, the elevator halts, and the doors slide open.
He steps out and strides down the short hall to his condo. His silence is no longer peaceful but tense with truths.
Save for the faint glow of early morning light streaming in through the windows, the condo is bathed in darkness. Memories of last night prod at my mind, aching like a phantom limb. We said so much—I said so much. Things I'm not sure how to take back now.
He strides through the living room and down the hallway. I expect him to stop in the bedroom, but he doesn't. He carries me straight into the bathroom before slowly lowering me to the floor.
His eyes rove over my face, a haunted look crossing his features like he's expecting me to disappear. To run from him.
"Talk to me, Coda," I whisper.
"I…" He clears his throat, staring at the tiles at my feet. "The night of the accident, I went to see your father. I broke into his house and woke him up with my gun pressed to his temple." He lifts his gaze to mine, simmering emotion roiling in his eyes. "I had the chance to kill him then. I wanted to kill him then."