Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 122550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 409(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 409(@300wpm)
Then he heard a muffled whimper from the closet. His heart skipped a beat as he walked over and opened the doors.
Shock flooded him as he saw her huddled on the floor. She shied back with a cry, her arms coming up to protect her head.
“Don’t hurt me!”
“Baby,” he whispered. “I would never.”
Suddenly, he realized that he was likely intimidating her by standing over her. He sat on his bottom, keeping some space between them.
She had her legs bent and curled up against her chest. Her face was buried in her knees, but he could hear small whimpers coming from her.
“Baby. My sweet girl. It’s me. It’s Regent. Can you look at me, please?”
“He was here,” she said in a scared voice.
“Who was, baby?” Did she mean Gerald? Shit. He should have woken her and told her that he was leaving.
But he’d hoped she would sleep through and wouldn’t realize he had left.
“My father.”
Shock flooded him. “No, baby. He’s dead.”
“He isn’t. He isn’t. He was here. In my room.”
Anger filled him. Sharp and fierce. Fucking Orlando Crane. If he could murder him again, he would.
Of course, no one knew that he was the one to kill Crane. After he’d taken out his own father.
Not even his brothers.
But after he’d heard their plan to marry Lottie to some Colombian drug lord. Yeah, he’d had no choice.
No one threatened his sister.
That was a truth he’d thought he would take to his grave.
“He’s dead, baby. I saw his dead body myself.”
She shook so hard that it was scaring him. Was she having delusions? Had she thought Gerald was Orlando? He supposed that in the dark, Gerald could’ve been mistaken for that bastard.
“He’s not. He’s here! He’s back!”
Fuck.
“Jilly, look at me.”
Nothing.
“Look at me. Right now.” He hated how harsh he sounded, but it was necessary.
Raising her head, she gaped at him.
“He is dead. I saw his dead body.”
She shook her head and he reached out to grab her shoulders.
“He is, Jilly, because I killed him myself!”
She froze in his arms. Fuck. What was she going to think of him now? Would she be scared? Blame him for her father’s death?
“You killed him?”
“Yes. I shot him and my father.”
“Promise?” she said in a quiet voice.
“I promise, baby. That was Gerald you saw. Not your father.”
A sob escaped her and to his shock, she threw herself at him. “Promise. Promise me.”
He gathered her close, cursing her father. Cursing himself for leaving her.
She was so hot, but he didn’t move. He just needed to hold her.
“I promise. He’s dead. He’s never coming back. And he will never hurt you again.”
28
How was it possible that she felt worse today?
Jilly moaned quietly, her throat protesting even that much noise. Her entire body hurt.
Heck, even her eyeballs hurt.
She glanced over through watery eyes to see Regent walk in with a tray of food.
He was still here?
Jilly really thought he might have gotten tired of taking care of her by now.
“I’m sick,” she complained as he set the tray down.
On the tray was a plate of burned toast with sliced bananas on the side.
Hmm.
“I know you are, baby.” He picked up the thermometer and took her temperature. “Still high. Here, take this medicine.”
He placed the pills on her tongue, following up with some water. Hr throat protested as she swallowed them.
“Do you want the bathroom before you eat?” he asked.
Well, she didn’t want to eat at all. But she nodded.
She let him pick her up and carry her into the bathroom without argument. She wasn’t sure her legs would get her there and back. After she was finished, he carried her back and tucked her in.
What would she do without him?
“You’re so good to me,” she told him. “Staying here, taking care of me, carrying me around. Bringing me food. And I’m probably going to make you ill.”
To her surprise, he sat in the chair beside the bed with a sigh. “I’m not that good to you.”
Jilly stared at the food. “Well, it is questionable whether breakfast will make me better or worse . . .”
He grimaced. “I told Gerald to sleep in after last night. And I’m not much of a cook.”
Yeah, he really wasn’t.
Wait.
“What happened last night?” she asked with a frown.
“You don’t remember?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“I had to leave for work and Gerald stayed here with you. You had a nightmare, and when he came in to check on you, well, you thought he was your father.”
“Oh no.” What the heck? She couldn’t remember any of that? “What did I do?”
“You were hysterical. Gerald called me and I returned to find you hiding in the closet. You were so scared.”
“I’m so sorry,” she told him.
His mouth dropped open as he gaped at her. “You’re sorry?”
“Yes! I’m sorry you had to come back to take care of me.” God, that was mortifying. “You don’t need to stay if you have things to do. I really can look after myself.”