Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
She finally did it. Pride wells in my chest, and even though his statement is a shock to my system, I feign bored interest as I wait for him to get on with it. Joe clears his throat then pulls an envelope from the pocket of his jacket.
“My daughter is young and impressionable. A bit naïve, which I fear is my fault for trying to protect her from the harsh realities of life.” Staring me down, he taps the envelope against his palm. “You’re not a bad kid, Ashton. I know your family has faced many hardships, and that’s why I’m here.”
“I don’t understand,” I say with a tilt of my head, wishing he would stop speaking in riddles and just say what he came here to say.
“I want you out of Sadie’s life.”
“Well that’s the benefit of being an adult. She can make her own decisions.”
“I thought you might say that, which is why I came prepared, Mr. Levine.”
“Mr. Levine is my father, and I assure you I’m nothing like him. Get to the fucking point, old man.”
My shitty language burrows under his skin like I intended, and his face reddens.
“You, Ashton, are a distraction my daughter can no longer afford.” He passes the envelope to me, and I take it as if it’ll burn me. “You’ll find my generosity more than agreeable.”
Lifting the flap, I pull out a check with my name on it, and my heart stumbles at the amount of zeroes on the face of it. “What the hell is this?”
“It’s enough to pay off your mother’s debts and your sister’s student loans.”
The man is fucking shrewd as hell and knows how to aim where it’ll hurt the most. Gritting my teeth, I glare at him. “I didn’t ask for your goddamn money.”
He merely shrugs. “Consider it payment for removing yourself from my daughter’s life.”
“You’re a special kind of low.”
He’s unfazed by the insult. “Think about it, Ashton. She’ll come to her senses soon enough, and where will that leave you, hmm?” He nods toward the check. “At least this way you get something out of it.”
The rage boiling inside me is rampant, nearly impossible to contain. I’m seconds away from ripping the check to shreds and throwing the pieces in the bastard’s face, but I have a better idea instead. Taking a deep breath, I slip the check back into the envelope and pocket it. As I reach for the door handle, Joseph grabs my arm.
“Do we have a deal?”
Shrugging his hand off, I turn a dark stare on him. “You’ll know soon enough if we have a deal.”
“I knew you were a smart kid,” he says, and it’s all I can do to leave the vehicle without blowing a gasket, especially upon noting his smug expression as I slam the door.
The bastard thinks I’m taking the money.
I put as much distance as possible between Sadie’s father and myself before I lose my cool and drag him from the backseat of his overpriced SUV.
Focus, asshole. Take a chill pill.
Sadie needs to know what she’s up against, and there’s nothing more effective than seeing proof with your own eyes. It’s going to hurt like fuck, but she needs to know the lengths her father is willing to go to in order to control her life. Taking cover on the porch from the light rain, I wait for the black vehicle to wheel away from the curb before I text Sadie.
Me: Are you home? I need to talk to you ASAP.
She doesn’t answer right away, and I’m growing antsy. Finally, after six long minutes, she replies.
Sadie: You said you’d give me some space.
Me: This can’t wait.
Sadie: I can’t do this with you right now. I need some TIME.
With a low growl, I pocket my phone, fingers brushing the envelope in my pocket, and set off for Sadie’s apartment whether she likes it or not.
Chapter Thirty-two
Ashton
My sister is working at the club, so I don’t think twice about barging in on Sadie. She’s in the kitchen nuking popcorn when she glances up. “What part of ‘I need some time’ do you not get, Ash?”
I’m distracted by the front door and the fact that it was unlocked while she’s in here by herself, looking too damn sexy in PJ’s. “I should spank your ass for leaving your door unlocked.”
My threat does zero to ruffle her. With grating nonchalance, she pulls the door to the microwave open and removes the bag before carefully dumping the steaming contents into a bowl.
“We already went over this. I’m not 4-years-old.”
My gaze falls to her flannel-clad ass. Jesus, her pajama pants are hugging her body to perfection, and my hands twitch with the need to pull her over my lap. She passes me on the way into the living room, ponytail swinging. Before she gets far, I yank the black elastic band from her hair and pull it onto my wrist.