Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 150546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 753(@200wpm)___ 602(@250wpm)___ 502(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 150546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 753(@200wpm)___ 602(@250wpm)___ 502(@300wpm)
I don’t take my eyes off Hector. “Now, Halo.”
She finally storms off, her little feet slapping against the wooden floors. It’s not until I hear the old church door slam closed that I finally break the silence.
“I guess I should ask why you’re here?”
“Hmm…” Hector pops the button off his coat, lowering himself down onto the pulpit. I want to distract myself some way, maybe the stained glass windows and how the afternoon sun bleeds through the Virgin Mary statue that stands as a reminder of why we should never set foot in the house of God.
It almost feels weird to be here.
“I want to ask you something, son, and I want you to be honest with me.” He gestures to the bench seat that was near, so I follow his silent order. My legs are tired anyway from all the fucking running Halen had me doing tonight. I mean for real… why was the girl obsessed with cemeteries? The one in Riverside is even more creepy than any of the ones I’d seen in movies too. What with all the family crypts. Doesn’t help that it is smack-dab in the middle of the forest either.
“Sure.” I kick my foot out and try to stop myself from thinking of all the reasons why he would want to ask me any questions. I was a King, but Priest was his grandson, and they were both close as hell. We all knew it. Even Bishop knew, and hated it a little, I think. Bishop wasn’t a saint, but he wasn’t the Devil.
Because his father was.
Priest… it was undecided how he would go.
“You care about my granddaughter?” I watch as he rolls a fat cigar between his fingers as dried tobacco falls to the ground. “Don’t fuck around with your answer.”
“It doesn’t matter what I feel.”
“That’s not an answer.”
I think over his words, praying to God that he doesn’t make me answer even though I damn well know no God lives here. “Yes.”
He pauses a moment, until his hand rests on my shoulder. “Good. She’ll need that. Especially when it comes to Perdita, or whatever games you lot decide.” He turns to me. “Some things, she should not know. For her protection.”
The tires touch down on the tarmac. Three hours doesn’t feel like long, but it’s a fucking lifetime when you can feel daggers being shot at your back for the whole trip. I can’t even get my thoughts together.
I shove off my belt and move down the aisle, desperate to get the fuck out of the small confinement of this jet.
Away from her.
Am I’m being unreasonable? Maybe. Fuck knows. All I know is that I tried to keep her away as long as I could. No one can stop it now. Can protect her now. And as much as I know that she can handle herself, I know that the shit she’s about to find out will push even her boundaries. The princess that never fucking had any is about to feel what it’s like to suddenly have a fucking lot.
The stairs unravel and I take them two at a time, noticing the black cars lined up waiting for us. All black SUVs.
I make my way to the Lambo Urus and throw my bag into the passenger side. I haven’t even let the dash light up when Priest knocks on my window, gesturing for me to wind it down. “We don’t want any fucking mishaps with her here.”
I finally flip the on button and feel the car purr to life beneath me. Not my usual taste. Too flashy for me—for most of us.
I shrug. “It’ll be fine. She wanted it, she got it.”
Priest holds my stare. “You and I both know that regardless of whether she wanted it or not, that she would have to take it.”
I don’t answer him when I hit the button on my window. “See you at the crib.”
I tap the gear into drive and direct the car down the long road behind the airstrip. Apparently when our parents were our age, it was all bush, so overgrown that they had to plow through gravel and old trees to get to the township. Perdita has changed a lot over the years since they’d been here. They make sure to announce that every time. Not that any of them come here anymore.
None except Hector.
I turn on the radio and lean to the side against the window. Pop Smoke was the greatest steal of our time. The greats always leave first.
I carry on down the road, my eyes shifting to the rearview mirror to see who is behind me, when a sleek black Maserati slides in front of Priest, slipping between the two of us. I can’t help the chuckle that leaves me, because despite me not being a fan of her being around, her presence is always effortless.