Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79547 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79547 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Ignacio’s truck isn’t in the driveway or parked in the street, but I still climb out of the car and head to the front door anyway, praying his crotchety old grandfather isn’t here either.
My knock goes unanswered, and I think I’ve dodged a bullet for just a little longer, but as I turn away from the door, I notice him pulling into the drive.
Of course, he takes his sweet ass time gathering his things and climbing out. His face is set in a scowl as he approaches, and he doesn’t say a word as he steps past me to unlock the front door.
“Are you coming in or staying out there?” he calls from inside the house.
Against my better judgment, I head inside, looking around the room for his grandfather.
“Is Mateo around?” I ask in a low voice because the last thing I need to do is alert the bastard that I’m here.
If my dad hated Ignacio, Mateo Costa despised me. I think it had more to do with not wanting his grandson to have even a pinch of happiness than me personally.
“Yeah,” Ignacio says, pointing across the room to a plain wooden box.
My eyes flash back to him. “He died? When?”
“I’m here because he had a stroke. The asshole stuck around for several days after.”
“Did you have a service? An obituary?” I’m certain Mom would’ve mentioned the old man dying if it had been in the newspaper.
“Nope.” Ignacio drops his things on the side table before looking back in my direction. “He didn’t deserve any of that shit.”
As horrible as it sounds, I have to agree with him. He never went into detail about his homelife, but from what I saw and experienced the two times I came over here, I know things were pretty bad.
“Why are you here?” he asks as he pulls a Styrofoam container from the plastic bag he carried inside the house. The spicy scent of Thai fills the air, and a small smile forms on my lips. I’d bet money it’s red curry beef.
“I want to get to know you better.”
He huffs a humorless laugh, and my hackles immediately go up.
“If you’re going to be around Alex, I need to make sure you’re a good influence,” I hiss, already annoyed with his dismissive attitude.
His jaw flexes, eyes still focused on the table. The man hates me so much, he can’t even be bothered with giving me his full attention while we’re having a conversation. It’s clear that he’s no longer the man I knew, much like I’m no longer that naïve girl who held my breath when he spoke because I was afraid I’d miss something. Before, he couldn’t take his eyes off of me. Before, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. Before, I was the center of his world, and now I’m merely the woman who kept an indefensible secret from him.
“You know me, Tinley.” Finally, his dark eyes find mine, and I’m trapped in his glare. The tiny, devious smirk playing on his lips takes me back to a time when I coveted that look from him. That look held so much promise back then, but I know now it was just another manipulation. “You know so many things about me.”
My body heats as my throat works on a rough swallow. I’m finding it impossible to reconcile the present with the past.
His eyes follow the action of my swallow, that stupid grin growing even more. He’s well aware that he still affects me after all this time, and I want to pull my heart from my chest and hide it in my pocket so he can’t hurt it again.
My real life never included you. Those words have played over and over in my head since he spoke them that night he ripped me in two. They come rushing back again as if the malicious words have slipped from his lips once again.
“This isn’t going to work.” I spin around and head right back out the front door.
“Tinley,” he snaps, the boom of his voice making my feet obey even though I know escaping this house is what’s best for all involved. “Tell me what you came here to say.”
When I get the nerve to turn back around, he’s sitting at the table with the lid popped open on his food container, fork already mixing the food around. It’s as if the moment never happened, and I don’t know whether I should be happy or question my sanity.
“Alex said you were in the Army.” He nods in confirmation as he chews. “Were you honorably discharged?”
“I was,” he answers after swallowing. “I now work for a man named Deacon Black. He owns Blackbridge Security. Our home base is in St. Louis, but my work takes me all over the world.”
I envy him in this moment, his ability to see the world. The only time I’ve ever been out of the state was a day trip to the casino in Oklahoma, and I’m pretty sure that’s less than fifteen miles across the Texas border. Being a young, single mother doesn’t afford much time for travel and experiencing things outside of parenting. I could hate him for his adventures, but my conscience reminds me that he wasn’t around because of my choices, not his own.