Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
I sit on the floor next to her and pull her shaking shoulders into my embrace.
“I’ll make sure to get them. Anything else?” I speak softly into her hair and breathe in her sweet scent. Her small body is so warm against me. She’s leaning into me like I’m her saviour, regardless of the fact that I’m about to leave her in a cell with nothing.
After a few minutes of me gently petting her back and her hair, she pulls away slightly. She still doesn’t look me in the eyes. “I can’t remember.” She wipes her eyes and sighs. “Nothing I can think of.”
I’m going all the way to her house for one pair of earrings. It’s nearly two hours away. Obviously, they mean something to her though. I give her a curt nod that she doesn’t see, because she’s not looking at me.
I take her chin in my hand and force her eyes on me. “You’ll be here until tomorrow night. That’s your punishment.”
She noticeably swallows, but nods her head and manages to push out, “Yes, Anthony.” Good girl. She’s taken this well at least.
I have to leave her. I don’t want to, but I do. “I have to go, kitten,” I tell her gently. I hate that I’m leaving her in here, but she knew the consequences. It’s important for her training that I stick to my word.
She leans against my leg as I pet her hair. I know she doesn’t want me to leave, but I have to.
I pat her head to let her know I’m going, and she responds by looking up at me with sad brown eyes, glossed over with tears.
“I promise I won’t do it again,” she says, but her plea is weak. She’s resigned to her fate.
“You earned your punishment, kitten. I’ll be back to give you dinner,” I say.
With that I turn and leave her. She barely grips my leg but releases me without me having to scold her.
It fucking hurts my chest as I press the keys to leave.
I wish she hadn’t done that shit.
But if I was her, I would have done it, too.
17
Anthony
Rigs, Vince’s giant ass lab, is lying pathetically on the floor begging. He’s a good-looking dog. I look to Vince and say, “See, told you the kids would ruin him. He’s a biscuit-begging mutt now.”
Vince shakes his head and my brother laughs, taking another drink of his beer. All the women are in the living room with the kids. Usually Rigs goes where the kids go, but we’re still in the dining room, and so is the food. Smart dog.
“He was so fucking good before the kids. You could drop a steak a foot from his face, and he wouldn’t move,” Vince jokes, and we all have a laugh even though he’s shaking his head.
“God, the kids. Cockblocking and dog ruining,” Tommy says with his hands over his eyes. He’s worn the fuck out with the little ones. But he still says it with a smile.
“Gotta love ‘em though,” Vince answers.
“I need another beer,” Tommy says with a touch of humour.
“Grab me one, too?” I ask him. He gives me a nod and heads out. Vince gets up from his seat to pour more Jack in his glass.
As soon as no one’s looking, I give the dog the last meatball from my plate. He swallows it down so fucking fast there’s no way he even tasted it. I chuckle at him and watch him lift his head up higher so he can see what’s left up here. Greedy ass dog.
Vince takes the head seat again and leans back with his glass at his lips. When he looks at me this time, there’s tension surrounding us. I know what it’s about, too. I’ve been waiting for it.
“We gotta talk, Anthony,” he says.
Tommy makes his way back with the beers and passes me one. I don’t want him in here for this though. I don’t want him to know about Catherine. She’s my secret. She’s mine. I wish even Vince didn’t know. It kills me that he does. Even worse is that I know he doesn’t understand.
“Hey, bro, could you give us a minute?” I ask Tommy as I pop the cap off my beer. He looks between me and Vince with a touch of confusion but nods his head with a bit of a frown.
“Everything good?” he asks. He’s always worrying about me. He always has.
Vince and I both nod as I answer, “Yeah, I just need a minute.”
“Suit yourselves,” he says, grabbing a bun off the table. He whistles at Rigs and the dog bounds off after him, wagging his tail.
“You need to take care of her,” Vince says the second Tommy’s out of earshot.
“See the thing is, I am taking care of her, Vince. We had a deal.” I put my beer down and lock eyes with him. “I paid, and she’s mine.”