Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
“But you could have probably run for your life, yes?”
Which had been the first plan. “Yeah, but—”
“Instead, you decided to stay and put worse people than you away.”
“It was a friend’s idea to fight,” I blurted out, an image of Sava in one of his wretched tracksuits popping into my mind.
“Even better. You took advice from a trusted source and listened. I don’t think I know anyone who actually heeds good counsel.”
I ignored him. I was trying to make a point and wanted to make it, not be diverted by allowing him to make me sound like a saint. “You don’t know that they were worse.”
“Sorry?”
“The—you said that I decided to put worse people away, but you don’t know that they were worse.”
“But I do,” he countered. “Because if you were the worst, they would have indicted you instead of whoever it was they used your testimony against. That’s just logical.”
“But—”
“So I can only conclude that you used to be a bad man, are not one anymore as evidenced by the very cute dog and how you’re getting ready to take on the daunting task of renovating—no, let’s call it what it is: gutting and piecing back together Ada Farley’s haunted house.”
It was suddenly all too much. “All day long today!” I yelled. “Everyone is thinking I’m the Second Coming or some shit! I’m not a good man!”
He crossed his arms and laughed at me. “Says you.”
“Yes! Says me!”
“And yet everything I’ve seen so far today speaks to the contrary.”
I had to lean over so I didn’t hyperventilate. “I’m terrified that you’re gonna hate me.”
“What?”
It was suddenly necessary to concentrate on the air struggling to go in and out of my body.
I didn’t realize he’d jumped off the porch until there was a hand on my back, rubbing gentle circles there. It was a surprise. If I’d ever broken down in front of my father or any of the men I thought were my friends, they would have immediately come after me for being weak. Even Sava would have told me to sack up. But now, now I was in a place where I had just stood in front of another man, been vulnerable, and instead of being attacked, he had rushed over to comfort me.
“You’re having some big catharsis over here, and I’m thinking we’re just talking like two regular guys.”
But I wasn’t that. I wasn’t regular.
“Look at me,” he ordered softly, crouching down beside me.
Still bent over, I turned my head so I could see his face and saw that he looked worried. “Why would I hate you?”
It took a moment, but finally, I straightened up. He rose with me, and I noted, as we were standing close, that I had to look up to hold his gaze. He was taller than me, not by much, but I’d missed it earlier.
“Maks? Tell me.”
I took a deep breath. “You lost your partner, and what if that was because you guys were undercover and someone just like me killed him and—”
“Oh, I see,” he murmured, reaching out and slipping his hand around the side of my neck, his thumb sliding over the line of my jaw. “What if a guy like you used to be, killed him.”
I couldn’t ever remember being excited and scared at the same time. I was terrified of what he was going to think or say, even as I leaned into the touch I craved and hoped he wouldn’t suddenly stop and walk away.
“First,” he said, and the smile he gave me made my knees weak. I’d been impervious to most people my whole life, but now it was like my wayward heart wanted to open to this man. “Are there men just like you?”
I nodded, unable to find my voice.
“I think you’re wrong, and I think you’re very comfortable selling yourself short, pointing out flaws because that’s the place you were in for so long.”
That part was true. So much easier to take in the bad, to hear the negative, and assume there was no good. And I was a killer, so how could there be?
“But I think if you look back, take a second and remember what others said, that maybe even in the dark place you were in, perhaps you did some good as well.”
It was what Agent Lewis had said, that some of my men spoke well of me.
“I suspect, even from knowing you for only a short time, seeing how you are, that that’s the greater truth.”
“I—”
“Is it possible that you’re a good man who was forced to do bad things?”
“But truly good men can’t be forced.”
He chuckled, but from him it didn’t feel like I was being laughed at. “There’s always a counterpoint with you, isn’t there.”
I was going to answer, but he took a step closer, reached up and held both sides of my neck, and stared into my eyes.