Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 44963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
I nod, excitement building inside of me. It’s not just that we’ll be able to get the mob off our backs. There’s a path forward to end this and begin a new life with my woman… with his daughter.
Damn, this is messy.
“Using my second account, I could gather pages and pages of materials that would make a Fed’s mouth water. There’s more work to be done, but even with what we have, there’s a chance at making them see sense. If they know I’m going to take this information to my grave, surely they’ll leave us alone.”
“The mob aren’t as brutal as people think,” I say.
Violet and Andrew gape at me. I shift in my seat, trying to figure out a way to make civilians see there are varying shades in the gray.
“They are brutal,” I go on, “but when it comes down to it, they want to make money. They wanted to get rid of you because your information would hurt their bottom line. If hurting you would hurt their bottom line instead… yeah, there’s a chance.”
He nods vigorously.
“But life won’t be the same. We will all have to move off the East Coast.”
“I was thinking of moving anyway,” Andrew says.
“You were?” I ask.
Violet nods, letting me know she already knows about this.
“Lots of memories in that city.”
“Mom,” Violet whispers.
Andrew flinches, letting me guess he was talking about more than Olivia. He was talking about the secret buried at the heart of this. The secret we’ve both pretended doesn’t exist all this time.
“How does the West Coast sound?” I ask.
“Sunny, hopefully… a good place to start a life,” Violet murmurs, her eyes on me.
She’s being too obvious about our connection. Especially if Andrew remembers our conversation from this morning, when I came on too heavily where Violet’s concerned, all but admitting my feelings for her.
“Either way, we’ll need to move on this tonight. You need to compile everything into a workable format, Andrew. Make it so I can give them a flash drive that will shock them and make them see. Otherwise, it’s blood. I go to war to make them leave you alone.”
“You can’t do that by yourself,” Violet says passionately.
“I will,” I snarl, staring at her with protective impulses radiating from me. “If that’s what it takes to keep you safe… to keep you both safe.”
I add the last part because I mean it, but also to stop Andrew from getting suspicious if he isn’t already.
“It’s time to pack up again,” I say, standing. “We’ll move to my next safe house. You can continue your work there.”
“Safe house, safe house, safe house,” Andrew says. “When this is over, I’ll be happy to never hear that word again.”
“Just be glad he has them, Dad. What would we do without him?”
Andrew narrows his eyes at her, seeing more than we need him to.
“What?” Violet says, narrowing her eyes right back, her sassiness never fading.
The name Reginald cuts through me.
“It’s true,” she goes on. “We’d be dead without him.”
“He’s the one they sent,” Andrew says.
“It’s the mob. They would’ve sent somebody else, anyway,” I mutter.
Violet stands. “I’m going to pack. I won’t be long. It’s not like I’ve unpacked a bunch, anyway.”
She leaves us. It’s an effort, even now, not to let my gaze follow her, not to indulge in the movement of her hips, the side-to-side hypnosis of her young, fertile body.
Fertile. How is it possible to feel how ready her body is by looking at her? I don’t know, but it is.
“She’s clearly in your corner,” he mutters.
Screw it.
Phil. Not Andrew. His name is Phil.
“You did good work, Phil,” I say.
He looks over his shoulder, checking Violet is gone. “Why do you use that name?”
“I think it’s time we told her the truth.”
He stands, laying his fists against the table.
“That’s my decision. I thought you got that. I thought I didn’t have to say anything. All this time together, using the name I chose…”
I know, but things are more complicated now. I’m falling for your daughter.
Nah, that’s crap. I’ve already fallen.
“I need to pack, too,” he grunts, “and charge the laptop. I want to get some work done on the road.”
“I meant it,” I say, as he turns to walk away. “It’s excellent work. It could save us.”
“Yeah, let’s hope. Then this will be over.”
I want the same, obviously. I want this to end. The endless traveling, wondering if they’ll find us, but it’s strange, too. This road trip, oddly, has been the best time of my life.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Violet
I sit in the back of the car, my hands worrying at each other in my lap. It’s not just the general bad vibes I’m detecting between Dad and Luke. It’s not just me fighting the urge to gaze at Luke in the rearview or imagine the steady movements of his hands on the wheel moving over my body instead, like they did last night, when he brought me to a simmering orgasm that left me shivering.