Page 110 of Moros

“Shorty—don’t take that monkey on your back.” Khadri warned. “That weight is heavy.”

I wanted to kill him.

Forever thing he’d told me he’d done, I wanted him dead.

Even after he killed my parents, that hadn’t been enough for him. I wasn’t sure why men couldn’t take no for an answer and leave things like that.

Why was her exercising her right to chose not something he respected?

He went out of his way to pass that punishment onto me, stole my grandparents who had nothing to do with anything. He’d broken their hearts and revictimized them as many times as he could.

Yes, I wanted him dead.

But I knew if I did that, I’d lose Khadri. I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep in his arms at nights, taste his kiss, feel his body hot and warm around me.

And while that was frustrating, I allowed him to take the gun from my fingers and wrapped me into the safety of his arms.

“I’ll handle it now.” His voice was soft close to my ear. “I got you.”

19

KHADRI “MOROS” WESTON

I held Ryanne’s hand as they authenticated her identification. Once that was finished, the law clerk ushered us into a boardroom that had an amazing view of the CN Tower, the Roger’s Center and the Ripley’s Aquarium.

The city sat around us, busy, and chaotic in the vibrant summer sunlight and that should calm me.

“Ms. Larwick!” The elderly gentleman to join us cheered. “It is so good to see you’re okay.”

“You must be Goran Sanz.”

I turned to see Ryanne shaking his hand.

When he noticed me, the smile melted from his face as he set a large file folder on the pristine desk. He tilted his head then look back at Ryanne.

“This is Khadri Weston—” Ryanne cleared her throat. “Um—my?—”

Seeing she wasn’t sure what I was to her, I extended a hand to the lawyer.

“Khadri Weston, her boyfriend.” I told the lawyer.

“Oh! Amazing.” Goran nodded, shook my hand then motioned for me to sit. “I know this is very heavy for you and I’m happy to see you aren’t doing it alone.”

Ryanne nodded.

“When Sanjit assigned this file to me.” He continued. “I knew he was placing in me great trust. He was very careful in giving me every detail of the case. And I have to say, your case is a really strange one.”

“I bet.” Ryanne nodded.

“Your father was friends with Sanjit.” Goran explained, sitting. “They go back to the very day Morrisey moved to this country. Your father made such an impression on him.”

Ryanne smiled, glanced at me then reached for my hand under the table.

“I don’t know much about my father,” Ryanne said. “Do you know anything?”

“Oh, yes.” Goran nodded. “Morrisey was a good man. Even when he was a teenager and had no right being as mature and kind as he was. His roommate in college was a kid name Bradley Spiegle. His father was a diplomat—a Canadian diplomat. He wanted his son to know hard work and what it feels like to live like most of the country did. So, Bradley lived in the doors, had a roommate, a part time job the usually.”

I could respect that.

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