Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“This is weird,” Tara says, looking around. The space is all white: white walls, couch, rug, art. Everything is white, or a very close shade to white, and I almost wish I could take off my shoes to keep from getting the fucking carpet dirty. I hate this room and Cormac knows it, which is why the ancient, mummified shit put us in here. I feel like we’re sitting inside of a cloud or like we’re in a hospital surgical suite. It’s all too fucking clean.
“Irene’s got a strange sense of decoration.”
“Why do your aunt and uncle live with you guys? I mean, I know you’re all rich, so why live here, and why did your dad let it happen?”
“He and Cormac had a complicated relationship. I think they wanted the center of the family to remain in one place, and after a while, they just got used to sharing a house. Although it’s more like we’re staying in two separate places. Cormac hires his own staff, his own cleaners and cooks, and runs his own kitchen and household, which is why it was so hard to get my people in here. We basically just share walls.”
The door opens again and Cormac strides into the room. He’s an older man, taller and thinner than my father, like a stretched-out version of the former chief. I stand and shake my uncle’s hand, and his white hair is frizzy and unkempt, his clothing old and patched, but his light blue eyes are as sharp as ever.
I know his game. He puts on this frazzled absent professor act to make people underestimate him, but he’s constantly working on new schemes in that whirring brain of his, hoping to force his enemies to make some misstep or error in judgment that he can exploit for his gain.
“Nice of you to visit me, nephew,” Cormac says, sitting with a grunt. “It’s been too long.”
“I kept planning on stopping over but I’ve been busy.” I gesture at Tara. “This is my wife. I think you know her.”
“The gardener?” Cormac frowns and squints at her. “That’s right, it is the gardener. You were Cait’s friend, the poor dead girl, right? I’ve seen you around digging in the dirt.”
“That’s right. It’s nice to see you, Mr. Hayle.” Tara sits up rod-straight and smiles at the old man like she’s trying her best to be respectful, but I notice her fingers digging into her knees and she’s definitely holding herself back from strangling the bastard. If she went for it, I might not stop her. It’d be interesting to see it play out at least.
“What can I do for you two?” Cormac asks, sitting back and looking at his nails. They’re trimmed short and exceedingly neat. “As you’re aware, Kellen, I’m not exactly part of the family business much these days.”
“Ah, well, Cormac, that’s what I wanted to talk about.” I lean toward him, doing my best to feign calm. “You must’ve heard that your son made a play for my life last night.”
Cormac’s eyebrows raise. “He did what now?” He sounds perfectly innocent and surprised, but a man like Cormac hasn’t survived this long without being able to act on demand.
“Don’t pretend,” I say, putting some menace in my tone. “I know you knew about it already. Everyone in the damn family’s talking. Frankly, it wouldn’t shock me to hear that you were the one to put your pathetic son up to it.”
Cormac studies me, frowns at Tara, and shrugs. “How do you know it was Hugh? Could’ve been a dozen different Hayles. What would I have to gain by my son killing you?”
“Cut the bullshit. I want to know what you know.”
“Believe it or not, my son doesn’t share all of his plans with me. And if he did—”
“You’d tell me, because you’re loyal to the family before your own blood.”
Cormac laughs. “Right, naturally. However, nephew, you’re not the family. Not officially at least. You walked away years ago and my son had to step into your shoes, and now you’re acting as though you didn’t disappear and break your father’s heart. But I haven’t forgotten.” He smiles serenely at me, like a monk meditating.
I crack a tight smile in return and study my uncle. He studies me right back. The man I remember from my childhood was massive and loud and intimidating but these days he’s wan and thinner than I remember and he moves much more slowly than he did back then. Cormac’s in his seventies, and while my father retained some of his energy and vigor all through his life, Cormac seems to have calmed somewhat.
“You’re on the wrong side.” I stare at my uncle and flex my fingers. Beside me, Tara shifts her weight. “Hugh took his shot and missed. He nearly killed several of his own men and wounded two. I cleaned up that mess and made sure his gunmen disappeared. Now I know how far he’s willing to go and what I have to do to win this fight, and you’re smart enough to realize that he won’t come out on top. I’m going to kill him like I’ve killed men like him before.”