Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
The man himself gazed up from his computer. “Kelsie,” he said with surprise in his voice. His snowy white hair had been styled perfectly and he, like his son, wore an impeccable suit for a day spent in his home.
Fucking weird.
Even if Ty woke up the richest man in the world tomorrow, he wouldn’t be caught dead wearing a suit to work from his home office. But then, Carver probably came out of the womb in a three-piece suit and alligator shoes.
“Hello, Father.” Her grip on Ty’s hand became crushing.
Carver’s eye shifted to Ty, then narrowed to a displeased glare.
“What a surprise. And I see you’ve brought a thug into my home. Please don’t be offended if my security pats you down before you leave, Tyler Daxon.”
Kelsie gasped, but Ty just laughed. “They’re welcome to try.”
He was tempted to fold his arms across his puffed-out chest and stretch to his full six-foot-two height, but that would mean dropping Kelsie’s hand. Beyond wanting and needing to be connected to her, holding Carver’s daughter’s hand would probably piss the man off more than any macho posturing. Not that Carver gave two shits about his daughter, but he’d sure as fuck hate the fact that a biker had her.
Carver removed his reading glasses and leaned back in his regal leather chair. “I assume you are not here to accept my offer but to plead for your friend’s business in person. Bikers, Kelsie? Really? They’re nothing but common criminals. Look around.” He waved a hand around in the air. “Remember where you come from. This is beneath you.”
If Ty were in a more humorous mood, he might have laughed at the fact that he was closer in age to Kelsie’s father than to her. A quick Google search revealed the man was sixty. Fourteen years separated him from McCarthy Carver, as opposed to the more than twenty dividing him from Kelsie.
What on earth does she see in you?
“That’s rich coming from you,” Kelsie said, shaking her head. “How’s your ankle jewelry feeling these days.”
Carver’s eyes flared wide, and Ty had to bite his lower lip to keep from laughing.
That’s right, asshole, she’s not a meek little kid anymore.
He had not been involved in his daughter’s life for nearly a decade. Yet to him, she was still the little girl who kowtowed to his every wish. It was about time he learned that girl grew into a woman who controlled her own life.
Carver’s lips pressed into a thin line of disapproval. “Mr. Daxon, I’d like a moment alone with my daughter, if you don’t mind.”
He minded.
Christ, no one had called him Mister in nearly a decade. No one ever used his last name. Hell, he didn’t even have a handle for the club. He was just Ty, had always been Ty, and would always be Ty. “Long as she’s in my line of sight.”
He swore smoke billowed from Carver’s ears. “Certainly,” the man said through clenched teeth.
When was the last time anyone had shown Carver he didn’t have the biggest dick in the room? Ty was happy to make sure he knew it.
“We’ll head out to the balcony. You’ll be able to see her right there through the window. You may have a seat on the couch while you wait.” He pointed to a brown leather monstrosity with tufted gold buttons. “Kelsie, come along.”
It wasn’t lost on Ty how he’d not asked Kelsie to join him but ordered her while asking Ty. A fact that wasn’t lost on Kelsie either, if the set of her jaw was any indication. If not for today’s ultimate mission of gaining access to Carver’s computer, she’d probably tell her father to shove his offer right up his wrinkly ass.
“Yippie,” Kelsie mumbled, making him chuckle.
He squeezed her hand before releasing it. Their eyes caught for a brief moment, so he nodded and fingered the flash drive in his pocket.
Kelsie preceded her father through the large French doors to the expansive balcony. Before he shut the doors, blocking him out, Carver said, “Don’t worry, Mr. Daxon, you won’t get lonely.”
The office door opened, and another man in a suit strolled. This one had an earpiece and a weapon holstered at his side. A security guard.
Fuck.
Ty ignored the man and sat his ass on the leather couch. The thing was so stiff that his big body didn’t even dent the cushion. Humming his favorite AC/DC song, he pulled out his phone and fired off a quick text to Curly.
In office without Carver. Have security eyes on me. Need a distraction. ASAP.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
SHE’D HAD THIS dream before. Countless times since leaving her home. This dream where she returned to her childhood home despite wanting to be anywhere else on Earth. But she couldn’t leave again. She could never leave.
But here she was, awake and alert in the throes of her recurrent nightmare. The difference this time?