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Fuck the law. Sometimes justice can only be achieved with old-fashioned eye for an eye.
no matter how much I hit it, there’s no erasing the image of Aspen’s swollen eye or how she could barely open it this morning.
“How much did Bruno pay you to follow and assault his daughter?” I ask the scum.
He pales under the fluorescent light, his thin lips shaking. “I don’t…that’s not…”
thought you’d tell me anything. But if you’re ready for your death, never mind.”
“No…wait… Bruno doesn’t pay. He…gave us protection when we served time and demanded compensation when we got out. That’s all, I swear. We didn’t even know she was his daughter. He only gave us a picture and a name and told us to teach her a lesson.”
“You said you’d spare me,” he cries.
“No, I didn’t.”
“Here’s how it will go, motherfucker. I’ll punch you until you lose consciousness like your friend here, then I’ll waterboard you to consciousness and do it all over again. I’ll torture you for every mark you left on her skin. By the time I’m do...
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“You know, I have tools that can be used instead of your fists. What are you, a caveman?”
Nicolo, who’s been watching from the corner with a gleam in his sadistic eyes, joins me. His expensive woodsy cologne stands out amidst the piss, blood, and sweat.
If you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss also gazes into you.
“Are you sure she’s still not your woman? Because at this point, you’re doing more for her than a man would do for his wife, honor, and power.”
Only that asshole would take care of a hurt person while flashing his dick diploma from “Bastard School.”
Nate never saw the charm in this house, but I do.
Part of it has to do with the fact that my daughter has lived here for so many years.
“Or any other colorful names Mr. Shaw calls her.”
“He mentioned you’d say that.” I narrow my eyes. “Say what?” “That you won’t accept help. I’ll be right outside if you need anything.”
“Are these…Gwen’s?” “Yes. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”
My heart squeezes, and even though I have to tug on the dress to make it cover more than my butt, I don’t consider removing it.
It might sound creepy, but I want to smell her close, even if it’s like this. All of a s...
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yes, she’s older now, married, and probably doesn’t need a mother, but I need her.
I always have.
“Would you like to see her room?” Martha asks. “You mean Gwen’s?”
In fact, her entire room is vanilla-themed, from the carpet to the doors of her walk-in closet, even the desk and the multi-colored pens.
She’s definitely more girly than I’ve ever been—not sure who she takes after. Not me or her father, that’s for sure.
Probably Caroline. She rubbed her stupid fluffy energy on me before I even fo...
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It was taken on her high school graduation day, judging by the clothes and the hat.
Kingsley is holding her up by the waist in the air as if she’s flying and Gwen is laughing uncontrollably.
They look at each other with so much love that it cuts me in two. At that point, I’d already met her and categoriz...
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If it weren’t for him, Gwen wouldn’t have grown into the fine young lady she is. It takes a man of stone to raise a baby all on his own from the time he was seventeen.
It’s filled with pictures of toddler Gwen, her birthdays, her first tooth. Her first steps. First day at school. All of them are documented with Post-it Notes at the top in Kingsley’s surprisingly neat handwriting.
He’s in almost all the pictures, either carrying her, cheering her on, or laughing with her at the camera. It hits me then that he’s only ever carefree when around his daughter. It’s like she’s the only person allowed within his walls.
Hell, I didn’t even know this side of him existed until I saw him laughing out loud when she brought lunch ...
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I remember being struck by the view, his laughter, his joy, and how the raren...
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Even Nate is present in some of the pictures, mostly her birthdays, as solemn-faced as ever.
But I go through the whole album. Twice. On the third run-through, I find myself pausing on certain pictures.
Like Gwen’s fifteenth birthday. She’s smiling, but it appears more forced than the government’s wars. Her eyes appear a bit puffy, her expression mechanical.
I cried on my birthdays because they reminded me of my mother who ...
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“I’m so sorry, baby,” I whisper to her picture.
“Shouldn’t you be more sorry for breaching someone’s privacy?”
He’s casually leaning against the frame with his legs crossed at the ankle as if he’s been there for a while, watching, biding his time as all predators do.
“I breached no one’s privacy.” I’m surprised at
seeing you physically beaten brings me no sense of victory whatsoever. The only position where you’d look good on your knees is when you’re choking on my cock, sweetheart.”
“If your tongue is healed, we can start right away.”
“In your dreams, asshole.” “In my dreams, you’re taking my cock up your ass like a pro.”
“Good thing it’s a dream, because it won’t be happening in this lifetime. And for the reco...
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“The number of fucks I have to give about your opinion of me ...
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“And yet, you still want a pi...
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The only sex I take part in is when I’m riding. Never when I’m dominated.
