Page 45 of King of Wrath

The sun actually does feel nice. I won’t make it more than thirty minutes but it’s nice to get a little vitamin D.

“So, what do you do when you’re not stealing young women?”

I shake my head, really enjoying the return of a bit of banter. “Excuse me, Miss Sassy, but you are the one and only young woman I ever intend to steal.”

She laughs. “I see. Want to know something about me?”

“You know I do.”

“I actually do a fair bit of this at home. Sitting outside despite the heat. Jess thinks I’m crazy.”

“So why do you go out then?”

“Makes me feel less trapped.”

My gut clenches. “You’re his prisoner too.” And that’s what I hate. I’m him. My father. Her father. The realization hits me like a punch to the gut and my stomach clenches.

I’ve trapped a beautiful woman by my side, one that I know is going to get hurt.

I can’t stand it. I can’t be him. With startling clarity, I know I can’t be another Toni. I can’t be cruel like my father.

“Have been for a long time.” Then she turns to me, her cheeks the most beautiful shade of pink as her skin heats. “I’ve thought about it.”

I stay silent having no idea what she might say next.

“And I’d rather that you killed me than send me back to Toni.”

It’s like she dropped a cement block on my chest, and I stare at her wondering if I’ll be the one to vomit this time. Mason’s wife Charlotte made a similar request of Mason.

There is grit and then there is inner strength and an understanding of the dark side of life. I’ve got both.

But by slow degrees I’ve learned, so does Nia. We are so alike in somany ways. Forged from the same fire. She understands me in ways even my family does not. “I am not killing you, Nia.”

“Please,” she whispers, leaning closer. “You were right about a few things. I’ve had time to think here in ways that I never got to at home. I’d rather be dead than return to that life.”

I turn to stare out at the desert. “You’re not going back, and I am not hurting you ever. I already made you promises, and I meant them.”

She reaches for my hand then, her small fingers slipping into mine, her pale skin in such contrast to mine. “I’m scared, Jake.”

“Don’t be, sweetheart,” I hear myself whisper back. “I told you, I’m a crusty old gangster and I am plenty man enough to make Toni pay.”

“I’m sure you will. But that doesn’t mean I won’t pay too.”

My eyes close. “You and I have both been forged by fire. Haven’t we? We understand the prices that must be paid for every choice we make or…someone makes for us.”

“You’re not wrong,” she whispers, her voice raw. “But you know that phrase, out of the frying pan and into the fire?”

“Yeah.”

“I can’t seem to tell where the pan ends and the fire begins.” She stares off into the distance, her features pulled tight with tension.

I tighten my hold on her fingers, knowing it’s time to make the picture clearer. “Want to hear another story?”

“Yes.”

This time, I don’t need her to share anything in return. I just want her to understand. “You know that time I told you my pops broke my jaw?”

“Yes,” she answers.

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