Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 154728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 619(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 619(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
Even saying it, thinking of him near her, made me want to vomit.
I wasn’t afraid of death. Not in the slightest. But I was afraid of my death meaning Mabel was in danger. Alone. With Brax. That scared me to the core.
My mind was clear, yet my heartbeat crashed against my ribs. Protect my daughter, at any cost. That was the goal. Buy time. Kane would be home. If it was before I was shot or after it didn’t quite matter. All that mattered was that he was there to save Mabel.
With the gun centered on me, his cold gaze transitioned from madness to hatred. “I’ll do it,’ he murmured. “I’ll gladly do it. Won’t it just add to the story? It’ll hit him where it really hurts.” He rubbed the top of his head with his free hand.. “But then he’ll twist it. He’ll be the hero, the grieving single father, again on top. Even more popular than he was.” His face screwed up, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Nah, I’m not doin’ that.” He shook the gun again. “Get out of the way.”
I planted myself, wishing I could grow roots in the tile, turn to stone so he couldn’t get around me. Couldn’t get to my daughter.
I was bracing myself. For pain. For the loud gunshot. To die protecting my daughter.
But only a small pop sounded then a large thump as Brax’s body hit the floor.
I stared down at the growing red puddle on the tile. Blood. Coming from Brax’s head.
Then I looked up to the form in my kitchen.
Knox.
He had on gloves. Holding a gun with a silencer. At least that’s what I thought it was. It looked similar to ones in movies. But somehow larger, heavier.
I took in a shaky breath. Then another. Knox was there. With a gun. He’d just killed Brax moments before Brax was going to kill me and take my daughter. Those were the horrifying facts.
Then I turned to face Mabel, a large smile on my face. “Let’s get you in front of fruit while I talk to Uncle Knox,” I told her in an overly high-pitched voice.
She squinted at me then peered around at Knox. I tried to hide the dead body from her view, though she didn’t seem to notice it. She was focused on her uncle, who stood frozen in the doorway, eyes locked on her.
There was no smile on his face, no softening or warmth to his expression that most people had with her. No, his face remained an impassive mask.
Mabel did not cry out in fear. No, she beamed at him.
Knox recoiled, presumably in shock.
“We’ll say hello in just a minute,” I promised her, lifting her from the high chair, swirling us around then quickly stepping into the living room where I deposited her in her ‘DJ Booth’—what Kane called the stationary container she could stand in. I kissed her head then switched on the fruit video, forcing myself to remain calm as I walked back into the kitchen. Knox had thoughtfully found a kitchen towel and was using it to stop the blood from spreading.
He didn’t speak, didn’t ask me if I was okay.
We both just stared at Brax’s body.
I’d never seen a dead body before. Though I still had the vague taste of bile in my mouth, I forced myself to keep it together. That was not the time for hysterics.
“We got two options,” Knox finally said. “You call the cops. You’re gonna have to say it was either you or Kane who did that.” He motioned to the bullet hole. “I, for various reasons, cannot be on the radar for things like this.”
I nodded, understanding, even if I was naïve to what it was Knox actually did for a living.
I thought about that. It was self-defense. Quite obviously. But that would result in attention. A whole lot of it. A national media storm, even if we weren’t charged in any kind of way.
Our life would once again be plastered over every news site, every channel. Mabel’s life.
Not only would she have the history of a famous father, but death, murder would forever be attached to her name.
My stomach lurched again.
“Or…” Knox continued. “I take care of it. No one ever finds him. Nothing ever traces back here.”
I eyed him, taking in his demeanor. He didn’t seem shaken at the slightest by killing someone. I was plenty shaken, and it was taking my years of training to keep calm. That and the little being in the other room did not need her mother losing her shit.
“I can’t ask that of you,” I said, my voice raspy and thin.
“You’re not asking,” he replied. “I’m offering. Consider it a wedding present. And an apology. I’ve been keeping an eye on him, making sure he didn’t do anything like this. I got … distracted.” His eyes went faraway for a split second before refocusing on me. “He shouldn’t have ever made it inside this house. That’s on me.”