Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
My woman finally glances in my direction. Palpable pain darkens her eyes. “I can’t be hugged, Victor. Or touched. I don’t know how long I’ll be like this. I’m sorry.”
Powerless, I watch as Luxury scurries into the house past Burt and the team he’s hired. Like a daft wanka, I stand my ground and stop myself from running after her.
Well, you’ve learned your lesson, Vic. No running after an angry woman.
Go too soon, and get your bloody head bitten off.
Wait too late. And the same results. No, fucking head. She’d chop it clear off. I stuff my hands into my trousers, letting out a dejected huff.
Damn it! I’ve not felt this way since I lost my wife, Emeli, and my son, Jude. And though I may have lost another child, Luxury is still technically alive.
15
Victor
Three weeks later . . .
We bought a house in the rural, coastal area of New York. Previously, Burt’s team of servants had dotted every i and crossed every t on my long, superfluous list. The fucking list was extensive, all in the hope of compelling any emotion from my woman. My desire is that once Luxury can see farther than the place where she stares off, she’ll notice everything. The massive home could house an entire rugby team. The icing on the cake is the tiny boat at the end of the pier. I could almost imagine the old Luxury squealing that the sailboat is romantic.
But that’s if she steps into the backyard, bypasses the tennis courts, and saunters onto the sandy beaches. Or perhaps she’ll see the free-standing conservatory, filled with orchids, tropical flowers, succulents, and cacti. And the beautiful gardens that surround it, which will flower soon.
The house wasn’t on the market, nor were the owners interested in selling. But after all the cursing I’d done while declining the proffered mansions, Burt persuaded the couple who once owned the place to scram.
Our therapist comes once per week, and I’ve encouraged Luxury to visit Urban Gardens, with or without me. She’s stuck, cognitively speaking.
“Have you found out who plotted to take my woman?” I growl at the butler as he sits in the breakfast nook. Though Burt hasn’t taken on any of his usual duties, he has a few requirements that he must address.
Burt removes the teacup from his lips. “As you’re well aware, Victor, the cameras inside and surrounding your Arlington Estate were—”
“Inoperable. I’m bloody well aware!” I gesture with stiff hands.
While squeezing the teabag against the side of the cup, Burt huffs, “It’s preposterous to believe the sheikh had someone on the inside to assist him. Who would cross you? And don’t you dare say your mother.”
“I’ve no mother, Burt. Every day, I tell Luxury that I will return to Saudi Arabia, vindicate our wrong, and she says no. The only time she speaks with me is to deny me our justice! Her bloody justice! So, while I wait for the two of us to have a discussion . . . a fucking discussion of substance, I will find the cunt who assisted Al Rafi. No, you will. You will find that person, Burt the Butler.”
He nods slowly, glancing out of the window at the bright green rolling lawns. “Nevertheless, if my intuition hasn’t failed me, Victor, gleaning the truth may send you . . .” Burt pauses and clears his throat. “Luxury, how did you sleep?”
I straighten up from my wide-legged stance, licking the innate taste for blood from my lips. “Yes, Lux, how did you sleep? I’m elated you’ve come down for breakfast.”
“I slept.” Her contrite tone fades as she forces a small smile for Burt. “How about you?”
“Better than expected, my dear,” he replies.
“And your physical therapy?” She pauses near the arched entrance, not stepping a foot farther into the room.
Although I’m astonished, Burt gasps. “I had no idea you were aware. Tomorrow, I’ll endure lap pool exercises by a woman who resembles . . .” His cough covers whatever he meant to say. “I-I’ll be chasing you all around soon enough.”
Her smile fades. Instantly, I recall how a single word could set me off. We had a baby. A little boy or girl who we’ll never chase around.
In the past, any term could prompt my search for another X-Member mission, regardless of whether I’d just returned from the previous assignment.
“Well, have a good morning, guys.” She starts to back away.
I hurry after Luxury. Careful not to touch any part of her body, I zip around my lady until I’m in front of her. I softly knock my knuckles together. “You came downstairs for breakfast? You usually take your meals in our room.” That’s progress, Little One.
While folding her arms over and chewing her lip, Luxury murmurs, “I, uh, changed my mind. I’m not even hungry.”
“Well, then, I’ve got you downstairs for longer than a therapeutic session.” I feel like my wee brother, Graham.