Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 113944 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113944 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
“So, what do you want?”
He managed to look offended. “Is there something so terrible about a man wanting to know his daughter? I thought it was about time we finally met officially.” He picked up his mug. He was drinking iced tea, of all things—she hadn’t expected that. “Geena’s been better since making contact with you. Less mercurial. More composed and efficient. I like that. It made me curious about you.”
Not curious enough for him to get in touch until he wanted something, though.
“I recently learned that you and one of my acquaintances have mutual friends. The Moores. They’re not happy bunnies right now.”
Good. “They’re also not my friends.”
“Yes, I heard that you’re not too fond of the boy, Brandt, after stumbling upon him in a rather tricky situation. But you know, there are two sides to every story.”
“Shame Brandt’s a prick in both of them.”
His mouth curved. “If he’s anything like his father, who I’ve heard plenty about, then he is a prick and probably always will be. But he’s also the son of a friend’s friend.” Kenny sipped his iced tea. “You know, I’m confused. According to Geena, you’re an intelligent girl. So why would you stand up for a shifter and, in doing so, vilify your own kind? And don’t give me something about it being the right thing to do. Ethics don’t keep people alive. Smarts keep people alive. And me, well, I’d rather you were alive.”
Pissed that he’d pretend to care about her, she set down her mug and leaned forward. “Let’s just be honest, shall we? You don’t want me in your life. I don’t want you in mine. You’re not a faithful friend to your friend of the Moores or to anyone else. In fact, you probably fuck people over so often that you have to carry lube in your pocket. If you want me to back off, it must benefit you in some way—I don’t care what it is. The point is that you haven’t done a single thing for me in my entire life, so give me one good reason why I should do a damn thing for you.”
His eyes narrowed, but they sparkled with amusement and . . . approval. He gave her a slow smile. “Interesting. You have spine. I expected you to be more like your mother. It’s nice that you and I have something in common, don’t you think?”
No, she didn’t.
“I did do something for you, Gwen. I did what your neighbors didn’t have the balls to do—I called Social Services.”
She almost drew back. “You’re lying.” She’d always wondered who’d called them, but she’d never once considered that it could have been him.
“What went on in that trailer . . . It wasn’t a good environment for you to grow up in.” His voice took on a haughty, judgmental tone. “I warned your mother that I’d take steps to have you taken from her if she didn’t get rid of that useless excuse of a human being. She should have put you first.”
“But you didn’t want me either, so what makes you better than her?”
“It was nothing personal, Gwen. I don’t like kids.”
Well, she didn’t like drug dealers.
“I didn’t want my kid growing up around that shit. You’d have ended up just like Hanna. Weak. Dramatic. Self-pitying.” He shook his head in disgust. “I got you out of there.”
“Which could have been a case of tossing me from the frying pan into the fire—foster care is no walk in the park for most people. Sometimes it’s worse than where they came from.”
“Ah, but you went to a good family. I saw to that.” He smiled at her start of surprise. “Money talks, Gwen. Always has. Always will.”
She wanted him to be lying. She really, really did. Otherwise, she’d have to be at least a little grateful to him for her ending up with the Millers. Gwen didn’t want to be grateful to him for anything.
“There’s nothing glamorous about your life, Gwen, but it was a good one, for the most part. You have a job, a family, friends.” He drained his cup and put it down. “So, you see, you were wrong in saying I’ve never done a single thing for you. I took care of you in my way. Granted, I did it from afar, but I still did it. I’ve never walked into your life, asking anything of you, but now I am. I’m asking you to do this one little thing for me and just alter your statement. Tell some sweet little lies for Brandt. From what I’ve heard about him, he doesn’t need you to ruin his life—he’ll manage that all by himself.”
She narrowed her eyes. “How do I know you’re not just saying that you called Social Services so I’ll feel that I owe you?”