Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
I could tell her everything.
Right here. Right now.
But that sure as hell means I won’t get to see her again. She’ll feel betrayed. Might even tell her dad about how we imbedded ourselves into their lives. Right now, she’s concerned he’ll find out.
Which he hasn’t.
But if I tell her the truth, he’ll most certainly find out. The repercussions of that truth are much worse than continuing this charade with her.
We kicked a rich dude’s ass. Defiled his daughter. Committed fraud by lying about our identity. And the list goes on. He’s connected to the Constantines, our mortal enemy. All it takes is for Alexander to find out our real names and who we are to the Constantines. Hell will absolutely break loose.
Scout blew up our lives last time. I’ll be damned if I’m responsible for it this time.
“I told you,” I hedge. “I have layers.”
My answer earns me a glare and her tone is filled with warning. “Ford…”
“Know that I’ll do everything I can to help you,” I rush out, hoping my earnest words reassure her. “Just let me.”
“I can’t even trust you.” She recoils, disgust written all over her face. “I think you should go.”
“Honey—”
“Go!” she hisses, pointing at the door.
Grabbing her jaw, I pull her to me for one more kiss that leaves us both panting after. “You can trust me.”
“I really want to,” she whispers, defeated, “but until you stop hiding parts of yourself from me, we’ll never get there.”
I want to promise her we’ll get there eventually. However, if she ever got the real truth about who I am—who we are—she’d lose all trust in me, even what little bit I’ve earned.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Landry
Can I come with you?
Della’s signed question physically hurts me, especially coupled with the pleading expression she gives me.
“No,” Dad answers for me. “She’s doing her part for this family. You, child, will behave and do your part.”
Della isn’t even looking at him, so she doesn’t catch a word. Anxiety knots my stomach. Ever since yesterday, when Dad picked me up from school and grounded me from every aspect of my life, he’s been distant and cold. Not that I mind the distance, but it just means he’s up to something.
It makes me sick and uneasy.
Leaving Della with him for a few hours worries me, but luckily Sandra is staying late tonight, having decided to inventory the silver and polish it. She’ll spend the entire time sucking up to him and praising his exquisite taste in cutlery. I may not like the witch, but Dad is less likely to do anything horrible, like smack her around, if Sandra is nearby feeding his narcissism with her endless compliments.
I’ll bring you back some candy, I sign and smile at her. Promise.
The doorbell rings causing my nerves to rattle in response. This “date” with Ty is a means to an end. He’s my key to this door I’m locked behind. Where Ford distracts me and complicates every situation we’re in, Ty doesn’t have that hold over me. He was nice and his texts, before Dad took my phone, were funny. He will help me. He has to.
“Della. Room,” Dad barks. “Sandra, answer the door.”
Della doesn’t see Dad’s mouth, so I quickly sign for her to go to her room. She’s not happy but obeys. Dad is too volatile lately. Neither she, nor I, are going to do anything to set him off.
Ty enters the living room a moment later with Sandra on his heels. He’s handsome in a pair of dark jeans, black boots, and a fitted red T-shirt that stretches over his nicely defined muscles. His blond hair is styled in a pompadour. It looks good on him. With his sharp jawline, piercing blue eyes, and height, he looks good enough to model. He smiles when he sees me, taking a second to appreciate my form as well.
Though I’m not as casual as him, I’m by no means overdressed. I’m wearing a Samantha Sung cotton stretch shirtdress with Bali boats printed on the fabric and my favorite pair of Jimmy Choo latte-colored leather espadrille wedge sandals that give me an extra four and a half inches in height. I left my natural waves in my hair today rather than straightening it so it’s bouncier than usual.
“Wow,” Ty says, his grin growing wider. “You look great.”
His praise makes me uncomfortable, especially with my father present. I force out a smile and am overly polite back to him. “You look nice too.”
He winks at me and then saunters over to Dad. They shake hands. Dad gives him a stern lecture about keeping his daughter safe. Ty promises to not let anything happen to me. With Dad’s security detail attending this date with us tonight, I don’t think neither Dad nor Ty need to worry. I’ll be under constant scrutiny.