Page 136 of Devil's Claim

CHAPTER 33

“Anger is just anger. It isn’t good. It isn’t bad. It just is. What you do with it is what matters. It’s like anything else. You can use it to build or to destroy. You just have to make the choice.” —Jim Butcher

Christine

Anger wasn’t an emotion I’d cultivated well in life. I’d come to fostering bitterness after graduating high school and learning of my father’s foray into crime. After enduring years of his insults and demeaning words. After overhearing horrible arguments and seeing bruises on my mother’s face. Even then, I’d tried to separate one part of my life from another, doing everything in my power to see the best in people. Meanwhile, I’d suffered inside. I’d grown a shell that had hardened over time, allowing me to secure thick armor as a protective device and a shield against the truth.

That was no longer possible.

So much had changed since Maverick had entered my life.

The sweetest and most perfect little boy in the world. He’d reawakened my soul, allowing joy to return to my life. But even that had been short-lived.

I’d thought myself happy, content until my world had been turned upside down for a second time. Also orchestrated by my father. In doing so, he’d almost taken the most precious thing in the world from me. My son. I wasn’t used to bouts of rage and the longing for revenge.

No one had been in my corner.

No one had been there to champion me.

Until Kruz.

My brutal, rugged, sexy husband. He’d not just crashed into my life. He’d taken possession of every aspect. I’d thought the man horrible at first. I’d believed I’d lost my marbles. I’d wanted to escape, to run far away. At first. Now, all I wanted to do was to bask in his warmth while sharing another round of intense passion. My God, the man looked like sin and danger on the beautiful sunny morning. I bit back a sigh as I finally stopped pacing. Okay. So I was nervous, like a kitty cat forced to face a group of lions.

Only Kruz would feed the lions to Satan and his hounds if necessary.

I shuddered as he approached.

“Do you know how incredible you look?” Kruz murmured in my ear. There was nothing like the feel of his hands on me or the way his breath tingled my skin.

“Not nearly as handsome as my boy toy in training.”

His laugh sent a wave of tremors dancing to my toes. “We’ll see about the training aspect later tonight.”

“Promises. Promises.”

“No, my darling wife. You can call that a warning.”

Even in the face of the unknown, and the danger surrounding us, he could still make me laugh. I glanced out the window, studying the impressive skyline.

New York City.

The Big Apple.

A lively city at all hours of the day and night.

Somewhere I’d both thought and hoped I’d never be forced to see again.

Now here I was. A new name. A new job. A new life. An entirely different future than I’d expected.

Everything I’d ever wanted was falling into place.

Just one more aspect from my past that needed to be swept into the trash.

There was nothing like having an entourage supporting you. Protecting you. That’s exactly what the burly soldiers and the three powerful men of the Torres organization as well as Genevieve’s second in command were doing. Twelve men in all surrounded Genevieve and me as we’d headed toward the skyscraper at 50 West 47th Street. To me, the number of men felt like an army. To Kruz, it wasn’t enough. But we’d filled the jet, the soldiers using the time to plan their offense while I’d stared out the window.

Maybe I’d had feelings of remorse and guilt, but after only allowing a few unwanted memories to shine across my muddled thoughts, I’d felt more confident of providing the damning information.

Fuck my father. He’d known he had a grandson and not once had the man acknowledged Maverick’s existence. Not once. No birthday card. No present for Christmas. Nothing. I’d never forgive him.

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