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)
“You going to bed soon?” The familiar tone of Bishop Vincent Hayes slides over my shoulder as I lean back on an elbow and stretch my leg out.
His body fills the wide space when he settles on the step beside me. Not too close, but enough to be able to clip my jaw if I say some smart shit.
“May as well stay up now, since the day is almost here,” I rasp through tense muscles. Fatigue weighs down my eyelids, but like fuck sleep is an option until she gets home.
Bishop chuckles, running his hand over his beard. I swear the motherfucker got better looking with age. “The weight of love can be trained to strengthen you, or it will be the anchor that drowns you.”
“I’d prefer it be the hammer that kills it.” Plucking the rolled joint from behind my ear, I bite on it and spark the tip. “Love is like cocaine. Easy to snort, hits fast, but then you realize it isn’t worth it.”
Bishop pauses, his narrowed gaze on the joint. “Jesus, you fuckers can at least pretend that we’re your parents.”
The smoke curls around my laughter. Neither of us want to touch on what the fuck he just said. “You and I both know you all lost that privilege the second we heard all the crazy shit you used to do.”
“Fair.” He stares off into the distance as I hand him the spliff.
His eyes narrow between it and me, before he finally takes it. Embers crackle when he inhales and the blister at the end burns. “Did you just compare my daughter to cocaine?”
And there it is. “Who said anything about your daughter?”
Smoke streams out of his nostrils when he turns to me. “You did. The second you were born. That aside, because clearly neither of you are ready for that conversation, you’ve been there for her more than her brother ever has. Not that it’s Priest’s fault, but what she needed from her brother as a young girl, she got from you. Don’t get me wrong, he protected her when needed and where it counted, but that’s not what we’re talking about here.” He passes it back and I blow on the dwindling end.
Dried herb crunches beneath the base of my thumb and forefinger. “I don’t know. It got complicated.”
Sorbet orange sweetens the bitter dusting of purple over the sky when he pauses a moment.
“It’s not complicated, you’re overcomplicating it. Just like your old man.”
His words leave a trail of footprints in my mind, but instead of seeing where they lead, I stomp the fuckers out and ignore them.
The lull of hot exhaust fumes mixed with the spice of burning rubber on asphalt is more intoxicating than any liquor I’ve ever tasted.
Except her.
No one bothers to ask why Halen’s throwing her fourteenth birthday out here. Apparently owning your own track isn’t enough when your kink is destruction on the streets.
Cars line the parking lot of the cathedral in town square. The night is young, but people are already rowdy. I fucking hate being around people from school. The stress of constantly having to stop Priest from murdering students aside, I can’t fucking stand any of them either.
Vaden pushes his body up the hood of my car, his lithe legs rippling over the edge as we watch the scene unfold in front of us.
“Why she gotta be this way?” Priest fixes on his twin. Candles on the GTR lettering cake that Evie is sashaying over to her illuminates the wide smile on her face. So carefree. Happy. Content. I could never ask for more than for her to be exactly the girl she is now. I fucking hope that never changes.
“Because she can.” Vaden lifts his heavy-set shoulders, but he doesn’t shift his gaze from her as Evie starts singing Happy Birthday. “Good thing we own this town. Imagine not being able to drive since you were ten because the law says so.”
Fifty or so other drunken voices join Evie in the famous tune.
Halen glares at her best friend, and whiskey catches my throat when I choke on my laugh, with Vaden’s hysterics following closely behind.
Priest shakes his head. “She’d fucking hate that.”
“Torment.” The word leaves behind a bitter aftertaste of images of me doing what I’d prefer to torment her with. None of it includes singing.
My phone lights up in my pocket, and Bishop’s face flares over the screen. Tapping Vaden’s shoulder with mine, Priest turns just in time as I take the call.
“What’s up?”
“Halen’s birthday?”
“Yep! You wanna talk to her?”
Silence. Anytime Bishop Vincent Hayes is silent, it’s a bad sign. For one, his genius is working overtime and I already know that whatever he’s about to say, I ain’t gonna like it. “It’s about the ritual. Are you all there?”
Priest and Vaden both move in closer, and I tap on the speaker button. We’re far enough away that no one can hear, yet close enough to watch the girls.