Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 40635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 203(@200wpm)___ 163(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 203(@200wpm)___ 163(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)
He's one more memory that was taken from me, one more thing I should have known and didn't. I lost my life, every connection to the people and places that matter. And for the very first time in six years, I'm beginning to think that was the entire goddamn purpose.
Lionel Cordova hated me because Mina chose me. But with me dead in Mexico, she was no longer tied to me. He was free to sweep back in and take over her life again.
Christ. Is that what happened? Is that why her life has been so fucking miserable for the last six years? Because I wasn't here to protect her from whatever bullshit he designed to punish her with?
"You think he did it."
I jerk my chin in a nod. "How the fuck am I supposed to tell her that her father is the reason her life fell apart? That I disappeared in Mexico because he made me disappear? She already thinks I'm full of shit. If I tell her what I know and what I think, it sounds like I'm blaming the one man who was there for her when I wasn't. I'm asking her to choose between us all over again."
"Well, you need to tell her something," Cash, Riley Jamison's husband, says, stepping into the green room. His broad shoulders fill the doorway as he ducks to avoid cracking his head on the frame. "Because there are things you don't know."
I narrow my eyes on him. "What kind of things?"
"I can't tell you that, Priest," he says softly, holding my gaze. "My wife would kick my ass if I did, and it's not my place. I shouldn't even be saying anything. But if our roles were reserved, I'd want someone to say the shit I'm saying to you right now."
"Is she okay?" I ask, worry clawing through me as I haul myself to my feet. "Is something wrong with her?"
"No," Cash says with a shake of his head. "Nothing like that. Just…fucking talk to her, man."
Fuck. He's right. I won't be able to settle until I see her again. He can stand here all goddamn night and tell me that she's fine, but I won't believe it until I see it myself. I need to talk to her. Work this shit out. Doesn't matter how long it takes to convince her; I have to convince her. My goddamn heart won't be whole until I do.
"I didn't mean right now," Cash sighs as I stride toward the door.
"Don't care," I mutter. "Concert is over. I'm out." I pause when he steps aside, leaving me room to go around him. "Where is she? Can you at least tell me that much?"
"Her dad's."
Fuck. Of course she's at that prick's house.
Half an hour later, I kill the lights, parking outside Lionel Cordova's mansion. It's eerie how goddamn familiar it is. My mind has been a great big blank for so long. But everything is snapping into place in a way that's jarring. Like the pieces of a puzzle that got jumbled up and simply need a little readjusting.
I don't know what the fuck to do with that. I don't know how to feel about it. Four hours ago, I knew nothing about my past. I had the image of a woman and a hole in my heart, and that was it. Now, I think about something, and the pieces suddenly…appear. Like they were never missing at all.
This is one of them. I know every inch of this house. I walked these halls for eight months, memorized every creaking floorboard, every hiding spot. I fucked Mina in every goddamn alcove we came across, unable to keep my hands off her.
The house is as gaudy and ostentatious now as it was then, a bully's show of wealth. Don't know why I ever thought Lionel Cordova could make my dreams come true. I guess when you spend the night sleeping on a park bench, any millionaire who comes along, offering you a way out, seems like a sure bet. I wanted to believe what he was telling me, that there was something better out there for me. That he could save me, make something out of me.
Instead, his daughter did it. She turned me into a man, showed me what I wanted in life, who I wanted to be. And fuck, the only thing I ever wanted was to be a motherfucker she could be proud of, something worthy of her. I never was. I knew it then. So did her father. But I was determined to become that man for her.
How did it get so fucked up?
"Lionel," I mutter. All roads lead back here, to him. I took his daughter. He took my life. How the fuck am I supposed to tell her that? How the fuck am I supposed to convince her of the truth? I still can't give her what she deserves. Financially, I'm better off than I was back then. But a place like this? Influence? Power? I can't give her that.