Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
I nod. “I’ll make it quick.”
Slade sighs and I step away before he gets the chance to change my mind. I make my way through the final security check and with every step I take, I can feel his blazing stare on my back.
My heart breaks as I glance back at him. I’ve seen him worry about me before but this is a whole other level. He’s hurting. Helpless. He doesn’t like this one bit and I don’t know if it’s because he can’t be by my side while I face my demon or if it’s because he’s scared it’s going to break me.
The guard ushers me through a heavy metal door and the sound of the electronic lock sliding into place has me reeling with fear. There’s no backing down now.
He leads me down a long corridor and all I can seem to focus on is the fact that I’m standing inside the same building as my parents’ murderer. It’s not as though I didn’t know this was going to happen, after all, it’s the whole reason I’m here. It’s not like I could do this without being in the same building, but thinking it and actually doing it are two very different things.
We stop at another big metal door and the guard keys in a code, making the door slide open. “In you go,” he says, waiting for me to step through. I do as I’m told and a breath of relief sails out of me as he steps through behind me. I guess I won’t be completely on my own.
“Booth number three,” he instructs.
I let out a shaky breath and scan the booths, finding number three just to my right.
I walk over, pumping my hands into fists and feeling my nails digging into my palms. I look over the booth; a stiff black stool sits under the table which is divided by thick bullet-proof plastic. An old phone is fixed to the wall and I look at it in disgust. When the hell was that cleaned last?
I take a seat and my fingers instantly start drumming on the table. “You haven’t been here before,” the guard states from behind me, standing robotically by the door.
“Nope.”
“You’re not another kid coming to claim he’s your daddy, are you?”
I shake my head, feeling sorry for any child who has to call this man father. “Just the one he kidnapped and sold to a mobster.”
His brows shoot up. “No shit?”
I nod. “Yeah, right after he murdered my parents and forced me and my brother to watch.”
“Well…damn. I hope you get whatever it is you need to get out of this.”
“Me too.”
The guard leaves me alone until we see the metal door on the other side of the glass opening. “Game face, Kid,” he murmurs behind me. “You look like you’re about to shit your pants.”
Crap.
I suck in a deep breath and let it out as I see a flash of orange making its way toward me.
I will not be weak. I will not break down. I will not cry.
I am Skylah Fucking Daniels and I will make my parents proud.
The orange jumpsuit comes closer and as he finally steps in front of the booth, I see his face. His eyes are cold and dark and even in a jumpsuit, there’s power radiating out of him. He’s an ass. I’ve seen him featured on the news a few times, especially a few years ago when he was first arrested. It was broadcasted on every channel but seeing him in the flesh is a completely different feeling, one I’m not sure I’m prepared for.
This man killed my parents. This man destroyed my life and gave me up to a rapist.
Anton sits and for a moment, I thank God for the glass between us. Slade was onto something. I want nothing more than to reach over this table and strangle him. I don’t give a shit if it means spending the rest of my days behind bars. If I could avenge my parents…shit, that would feel good.
I sit back on the stool, silently watching as he tries to figure out who the hell I am. He reaches for the phone and places it to his ear and after a beat, I do the same, terrified of hearing the voice from my nightmares.
Not a word gets said until his frustration gets the best of him and he sighs. “You’ll have to forgive me, sweetheart, but have we met? I’m struggling to place you.”
I scoff under my breath. That’d be right. The man doesn’t even remember me, probably doesn’t even remember my parents. They were that insignificant, just another target, just another night’s work.
I lean forward, slamming my hand down on the table, feeling my inner bitch starting to shine bright. Screw the fucking nerves, they’re long gone, now replaced with fury. “Let me give you a brief history lesson,” I seethe. “Thirteen years ago, you and your men stormed into my home. You tied up my parents and left them weeping on the floor. You killed them and forced me and my brother to watch. My mother hadn’t even finished bleeding out before you took us, throwing us into the back of your dirty ass car and kept us locked in a basement, freezing and starved.”