Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 70797 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 354(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70797 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 354(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
“And you take pride in that?” I asked coldly. “I was walking home, and I witnessed you murder that guy. It’s not like you were careful or covered your tracks.”
“I don’t have to cover my tracks. The police are scared shitless of me. That’s what my clients are paying for. When the police investigate the crime scene or they put a detective on the murder, all I have to do is make one phone call and the investigation is dropped.” He snapped his fingers. “Like that.”
That kind of power just made me despise him more. “No one is above the law.”
“Then your entire family would be in prison right now, except your mother. And your father would be in prison for keeping your mother prisoner for months—”
“Don’t talk about my family.” I didn’t raise my voice but mimicked the same kind of authority he showed. I only had a fork in my hand, but I could do some damage with it. My gun was still in my bag, and I hadn’t had the opportunity to put it to use.
Bones turned quiet, holding my gaze with his unflinching look. “Then I want to talk about my family. While you were drinking wine and opening presents by the tree, I got a phone call.”
I didn’t know where this was going, but I hung on every word.
“One of my boys thinks he’s identified the man who killed my mother. The guy who hired her for the night, and when he was finished, got off on killing her. Murdering prostitutes is a fetish of his. He’s done it to twenty other girls, and he’s never been caught because the police don’t give a shit about whores—even though they’re people. You don’t like that I’m above the law? Anyone with money and a little bit of power is above the law. Anyone who doesn’t fit into that category is insignificant and isn’t even included in the law. That’s just how it is, baby.”
Sadness sank into my stomach when I pictured how that phone call went. I was having a wonderful time with my family, making memories and imagining what it would be like once Conway’s son or daughter was there for our next Christmas. My mother was beaming like a glowing light, and my entire family was happy to be alive in that moment. But Bones was at home, thinking about who fucked his mother and then killed her. An overwhelming sense of remorse came over me, the pain so deep that it ached in my bones. I struggled to accept what happened to my mother when she was young, but she escaped and lived a happy life. She found a way out. She was still alive. But Bones lost his mother…and now he was haunted by the way she met her end. “I’m so sorry…”
Bones stared at me, his blue eyes focused with laser precision. He watched me like he was reading me, and his emotions were difficult to decipher. He was still like a statue, like a gargoyle that haunted the night. “She was killed on Christmas Eve. She went to pick up a client so she could afford our rent and to get me a toy for Christmas. If she hadn’t done that, she might still be alive. I wish I could have told her I didn’t need a damn toy for the holiday. I wish I wasn’t so young. I wish I was the man I am now, the man who could take care of her so she wouldn’t have to resort to that dangerous lifestyle.” He didn’t blink as he stared me down, not showing the sadness that I felt in my heart. All he felt was rage. “When I confirm it was really him, I’ll murder him with my bare hands—and leave his body in a dumpster.”
I had no doubt that Bones would do whatever was necessary to avenge his mother, and I wouldn’t persuade him not to. If it were my mother, I would do the exact same thing. I wouldn’t stop until that man got the exact same fate.
Bones was keeping me as his prisoner and threatening my family on a daily basis, but I felt so much empathy for this man. I felt sorry for him, sorry that he experienced so much pain. He was born the son of an evil man he never knew. He didn’t have the same opportunities I had. He wasn’t loved by his parents the way I was. He didn’t have a family at all. He was completely alone…even on Christmas.
No one should be alone on Christmas.
I moved around the table on my knees and got closer to him.
He watched me, his eyes still fierce and hostile. “I don’t want your pity. I just want to give you a reality check.”
I straddled his hips and moved into his lap, my arms circling his neck and my face moving to the crook between his shoulder and neck. “I’m not giving you my pity. I’m not trying to comfort you. I’m trying to comfort myself…because my heart hurts.”