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All Of Me (Book 3 of Lastor Series)

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Sequel To -Forget Me Not- Sequel To -Forget Me Not- Sequel To -Forget Me Not- Sequel To -Forget Me Not- Sequel To -Forget Me Not- Sequel To -Forget Me Not- Sequel To -Forget Me Not- Sequel To -Forget Me Not- Sequel To -Forget Me Not- Sequel To -Forget Me Not- Sequel To -Forget Me Not- Sequel To -Forget Me Not- Sequel To -Forget Me Not- Sequel To -Forget Me Not- Sequel To -Forget Me Not- Sequel To -Forget Me Not- Sequel To -Forget Me Not- Sequel To -Forget Me Not- Sequel To -Forget Me Not- Sequel To -Forget Me Not-

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Prologue
August 2005 Manchester, Vermont I sat out on the patio, watching my sister as she laid on the boat in the middle of the lake, a book in one hand and a cigarette on the other while one of her bodyguards stood by the dock. Ever since I arrived at the manor today just in time for lunch and she found me in the dining hall with Gramps, she made it clear she wanted nothing more than to will me into nonexistence. There was nothing new to that but still, I hated it. What I hated more was whenever she looked at me. I could see it in her eyes, how much she hated me. Hated me for leaving. Hated me for my cowardice. Hated me for saving her life after she had butchered herself with a broken mirror. It had been nearly two months since and it was only today that our grandfather allowed me to come and see her. After she had woken up from the medically induced coma, he only waited till she was strong enough to travel and brought her here. Away from the press that relentlessly followed us around after the ordeal. Officially, my sister had been in a car accident. But in reality, she had attempted suicide and I had been the one who rushed her to the hospital. There was so much blood then and I immediately casted away the memory, refusing to remember it. I made myself remember memories of us when we were younger instead. The days when my sister and I were thick as thieves. Spiting our tutors whenever we got bored with our private daily lessons. Getting on a train and riding it till the last stop. Sneaking away from our security detail and spending the day loitering around, pretending we were normal kids without the burden of obligation as heirs to our family's godforsaken empire. I longed for those days to come back but I guess I had no one else but myself to blame. I'd been the one who left after all. "You can't leave me," she'd begged me then. "Please. You promised." Those were her last words to me. It has been four years since and she still refused to speak to me. It was agony that those desperate words were the only thing that I can hold onto and now, I had the memory of her lifeless body lying in a tub filled with her blood haunting my sleep too. "How long do you two plan on hurting each other?" I turned to see my grandfather standing by the door, his eyes focused on her while he held a glass of scotch in his hand and his cane on the other. "She kills herself with all the things she does. You torture yourself with all the things you didn't do. For what? Because of the past that can no longer be changed? How pointless." He scoffed, taking a sip of his drink. "You two have the potential to become great things, probably greater than me, but here you are, being a slave to the past. I've half the mind to lock you two in the same room and never let you out until you settle your grudges but knowing that girl, she'll find a way to escape. She always does. Damned girl, too clever for my own good." "You taught her all that she knows." He laughed, in spite of himself. "For that, I am guilty but proud. She's the best protégée I've ever had and I've had many. Some went on to become renowned scholars and professionals, and she could be like them too if she wanted. She's brilliant and hard working but your sister... ah, our darling little Angel." He sighed, shaking his head. "Too proud to ask for help. Too kind to share her burdens. Too angry to listen. She thinks faking a smile is enough but how long till she tires of pretending? What will she do then?" For a fleeting moment, his own pretenses slipped away, revealing an old man worried and pained as he watched helplessly as the most precious thing in his life edged towards self-destruction. Gramps can laugh and joke all day but I knew that at night, as he laid on his bed waiting restlessly for the sleep that rarely came, he wept for the little girl he loved so dearly and nurtured so intensely. And lost far too early. This is all you, a voice at the back of my mind whispered. You failed them. I didn't argue with that because I knew it was true. Leaving my sister meant losing her and sadly, everyone who loved her lost her as well. If I never left her, none of this would have happened and she wouldn't have scars on her body. Not for the first time did I wish I could go back and change what I had done. But what would be the consequence? If I hadn't left, she would have died. It was only a matter of time till the torture she endured every day from Father wore on her and her injuries became fatal. The only reason why she was still alive was because I had left but, all the same, that had hurt her more than any beating she received from our father. But looking at her now, seeing what she had become, what she had gone through, what she had done. Death would have been mercy. I shook my head, despising such terrible thoughts. I looked at her again, wishing I could see her smile again. She never smiled anymore. "She hates me," I thought to myself, realizing belatedly I had said it out loud. Gramps sighed, ambling towards me and taking a seat on the chair beside me. "Little Angel has no place in her heart for hate," he mumbled in a soft yet firm voice. "Anger, yes. Hate, no. But she's been hurt so many times that she trusts no one with her heart, not even herself. It would take patience and care to make her love again. I've tried for years but she's stubborn. Or afraid. I've a hard time trying to decide which one but I guess it is both." It was true, all that he said. A long time ago, Angel had been the kindest and loving person I knew. Even when she suffered through our father's cruelty and abuse, she never stopped loving him. She never bid him ill. She never said anything to spite him. She was good. But that was then and it's been such a long time since then. Now, there was no longer a trace of the sister I once admired and adored. "Do you think she'll ever forgive me?" "Have you asked for forgiveness?" I pursed my lips, lowering my eyes. "I have no right to ask for forgiveness after what I did." "You had no other choice, Jude." I shook my head. "I did. I could have taken her with me. I could have told you sooner. I could have done so much but I chose to abandon her. I left her with that... that monster. Now look what he did to her!" Tears stung my eyes but I held them back. Tears were useless. No amount of tears could bring back my sister to the way she was before all this happened. Gramps sighed. "I don't understand why you two blame yourselves for what Anthony has done. You were a victim as much as little Angel was." "And yet the bruises and scars on her body say otherwise." "You of all people know little Angel has the ability to hold her own in a fight. She's small but quick, like a bullet." He paused, looking down at his glass. "But physical strength isn't what she needs to fight him. Courage. That's what she needs. Courage to accept that she had been abused. Courage to forgive herself and others. Courage to look at him and tell him that she doesn't need him. But alas, my father taught my son too well in regards to manipulation that he could burn the girl alive and convince her that he was just making sure she didn't catch a chill." He dragged a palm down his face, shaking his head. "My own blood. My heir. How disgraceful." "You should disown him. Strip him of his name and wealth. Let him be nothing," I spat, forgetting myself as I let my emotions take hold of my tongue. A faint smile played on his lips. "I thought of that. I even told him those threats. By all means, I have the power to execute him as the head of our family. You know what Anthony said?" He turned to look at me. "He told me he'd kill her but not before ruining her. He could never touch you, not with Jacqueline and her family protecting you. He has nothing but her as his leverage and what a great leverage he has. He knows I will do nothing. He knows that as long as he has the girl and her loyalty is in him, he can rule. Even if I attempted to take her away, how? She's surrounded by his men day and night. Watching from the shadows. Some in plain sight. Willing to kill anyone. Even me." He looked at the bodyguards he himself had assigned to Angel but it was no secret every person who wore a suit was owned by my father but still, it was a risk he took as long as she was protected. I may be the heir but my sister was the very thing that kept the empire together. Her and our grandfather's love for her. It was the only reason why Anthony Lastor is where he is right now. If she found the courage to cut herself out off the chains he had bounded her in, he'd be nothing. But Father would never let her do that. So he broke her. Beat her. Poisoned her. Tore her apart. Convinced her that without him, she was nothing when it was the other way around. "Letting my father take Anthony was the biggest mistake I ever made," Gramps was saying. "He was just a boy when he was taken from us. Younger than little Angel by three years. Anthony begged me not to send him away and I begged my father even more not to take him. He wouldn't have any of it. He was angry that I had allowed Augustus to live freely and he didn't want Anthony to be the same. He'd realized that I wasn't fostering my sons to become my heirs. I didn't want them to live the same life I had but I was you once. Unable to disobey. Afraid to shame him. Bound by duty to my family." He scoffed. "What a family we are. Filled with greed and lust for power. I was never interested in any of it. I wanted to serve people and help them. Not make money. But I was the eldest son and I had no other choice but to take over when Father stepped down. And when Lily gave me two sons, I vowed to protect them from being corrupted by my world and this damned family. Anthony never forgave me for my failure to hold that vow." He downed his drink in one breath, sighing. "I wish Lily was here. She'd know what to do or at least give my mind enough peace so that I can use my wretched brain and think. She always gave me peace but now when I think of her, I can scarcely remember the sound of her voice or the feel of her skin. The curse of old age." I frowned. He rarely talked about Gammy, let alone say her name and I couldn't remember the last time he mentioned my great-grandfather, the man whose name I carried in my middle, Timothy Lastor. The only time he did was when he was drunk. I eyed the glass in his hand, wondering how many he's had. It was an unspoken fact that my grandfather had taken alcohol as his mistress ever since my grandmother's passing. But he seemed sadder than drunk. "Why am I here, Gramps?" I asked. I hadn't asked to be here because I knew it was the last thing Angel would have wanted but he'd told me to come at once. Why, he didn't say. But he was saying all these things and I felt a certain unease in the pit of my stomach. "I heard you received a letter from Xavier University's College Of Medicine." I tensed. I hadn't told anyone. I didn't want it to get out and have someone whisper it to my father. Applying to Xavier had been a last minute decision and I wasn't sure I was going to get in since the cut off for submissions already passed by the time I applied. But yesterday, the acceptance letter came. "You got me in." "You give me too much credit." He looked at me, smiling faintly. "The dean is an old classmate from Yale. He called me to ask if he was seeing right and that a Lastor had actually applied to his school. He was very impressed with your credentials." "Father doesn't know. He won't be pleased if he finds out." "Let him sulk." He sighed, shifting in his seat. "Little Angel will be going to Princeton but I'm sure you know already." "I do." Me choosing the school over Oxford was no coincidence. Princeton and Xavier were approximately 20 minutes away from each other by car. Not too close that Angel would know I was there. Not too far that I wouldn't be able to watch over her from a distance. "I've been planning on investing in some real estate in New Jersey," he went on, failing to be nonchalant. "There's this new apartment complex in Newark. It's a bit of a drive to Princeton and Trenton but it has great amenities. Stunning views. Top notch security with a 24 hour concierge. Vacant penthouse." He smiled almost in satisfaction. "I had my assistant make inquiries and convinced the owner to sell the building at quite a reasonable price. I expect the deal will be signed within the week." I knew where he was headed. "She won't live with me, if that's what you're thinking," I said, shaking my head. "And as much as I want to protect her, I don't want to live with her either. She's affiliated with organizations that I have no intention of associating myself with and being in the same space as her would invariably make me an accomplice to everything she does." "Ah, the drug cartel," he said, as if it had slipped his mind that his beloved granddaughter has worked for a rumored drug lord since she was fifteen and trafficked millions worth of cocaine and heroin on the regular. And that was just a sideline job. Her crowning jewel was the clandestine network she had built for herself. I didn't know all the details but from what I've heard, she was invested in all sorts of crimes. "Did you know the FBI has her on surveillance?" I said, sighing. "I have agents questioning me about her and who knows what they've tapped into. Getting arrested for driving under the influence is one thing but if they get her for drug trafficking, she can be sentenced to, best case scenario, three to five years in prison. Worst case scenario, it's life." "Don't worry. I'll handle it," he said before taking a sip of this drink. "She's clean now but once she gets back out there, she will slip and you need to be there to keep her from slipping too far. Living with her is the only way to do that." "Fine but I can assure you that she'll burn the house to the ground if she had to share the roof with me." He shrugged. "Insurance will cover the damages." "How do you plan on convincing her exactly?" "Who said she had a choice?" "She'll find a choice if the given doesn't appeal to her." "If you let her. Brother and sister you two may be but you are the heir and she is your right hand before anything else. It's time you both act as such." "You want me to order her to live with me?" He smiled, placing a hand on my shoulder and squeezing lightly. "We've been kind and gentle to her for too long but she's no longer a child, I've realized that now. Child's play is over and you must be firm if you wish to be an effective leader. Little Angel can have her rage for as long as she pleases but that won't diminish your authority over her. She is bound to you by duty, not to a drug lord. Remind her that." "She's going to hit me if I dare." "No doubt she will." He stood, waving over a maid who stood idly a few feet from us and she immediately went to him. "Yes, Mr. Joe?" "Tell little Angel there's no more sun to bathe in and to come back inside before the insects make a meal out of her skin." She looked in Angel's direction warily. "Y-y-yes, sir," she said hesitantly before going to her. Gramps chuckled. "Poor thing's terrified of your sister. All of them are. It only amuses her. Did you know she made one of the maids go into labor a week ago just by looking at her?" He walked back inside laughing to himself while I sat imagining a poor pregnant woman shaking in fear as my sister rendered her frozen with a mere stare. I swallowed hard when I saw Angel striding towards me, dripping wet under the robe wrapped around her and looking less than pleased at being told what to do. I stood when she got to me but before I could say a word, she was striding inside. "Angel, we need to talk," I said, following her. She ignored me. She is bound to you by duty. Remind her that. Easier said than done, Gramps. I took a deep breath and mustered the character of Jude Lastor the heir. Menacing and ruthless. No mercy for imperfection and disrespect. "Angel," I boomed in a voice that was foreign to me. I caught her flinch, her stride faltering as if she had stepped on uneven ground. "I came here to speak to you. I've humored you long enough and I no longer have the patience to tolerate this childishness. We will speak. Now." I was holding my breath, my heart pummeling against chest. Cold sweat trickled down my temple. I've never dared to make her feel inferior to me. I despised the mere notion of considering her below me. She was my sister. My little Angel. My only equal. But she was also my right hand and I would be foolish to forget that. Slowly, she turned to face me and at that moment, I found the answer to the question I've had for years. How could my teenage sister live in a world so barbaric and dangerous as the world of organized crime? And thrive in it. The answer seemed so easy now. She was a criminal, through and through. The silver slits of her eyes were filled with rage and her bandaged hands were curled into fists. She was simmering with so much fury that I've never seen before and for the first time in my life, I saw what everyone else saw. The terrifying, cold, deadly, and nearly demonic Angel Lastor that no one dared to even look at. And I feared her. She may be a foot shorter than me and a hundred pounds lighter but she made me feel like a small child facing a starving lion with no weapon or escape route right then. I wanted to turn away, fearing what she would do, but I held my head high. Being submissive would give me nothing but her mockery. I needed to earn her respect. "Be angry with me but you will respect me, do you understand?" I bit out. Her pierced brow arched, the steel studs glinting while her lips twitched as if she was holding back a smile. She padded towards me almost lazily, not looking fazed at all. I had no doubt that she's faced far more intimidating people before. When she stood before me, I struggled to keep my stance. She tilted her head, raking her eyes over me. Every second drawn out with carefulness and I grew cold as she practically cut me to the bone with her icy stare. She licked her lips, the silver barbell pierced through her tongue clicking against her teeth. When her eyes finally met mine, she smirked. I anticipated the blow of her fist before she could land it and caught her arm, twisting it and thrusting the heel of my palm onto her side where I knew a wound was still healing. She inhaled sharply, a flash of excitement flickering through her eyes as her lips split into a grin. She attacked just as quickly as she recovered and her elbow landed on my jaw, making a satisfying crack. I tasted blood and black spots filled my vision. The blow was perfect. Hitting the right place. If she had put more strength into it, she could have dislocated my jaw or knocked me unconscious. I realized she was holding back. I didn't know whether to be touched or offended by her mercy but before I could decide, she slipped out of my hold and delivered a harsh kick that hit the side of my head. I nearly lost my balance but I planted my feet firmly on the ground. Before I could block another hit, she hit me with two more. Breaking my nose with a quick thrust of her palm followed by jamming her fingers into my windpipe. Instantly, I was choking on blood. I staggered back, clutching my bleeding nose with one hand and raising my arm for defense. When I looked at her, she seemed bored. "Why is it that every pampered little s**t thinks that they can just demand respect and assume people will bow down and kiss their feet?" she murmured, her voice soft but I could taste the venom in her words. "What have you done that deserves respect? My respect of all things. You think money and the status of the first born son of a powerful man is all that you need to be respected? You think you can scare me into bowing down to you?" She scoffed. "I turn people like you into my bitches for fun. Respect my ass, bitch." She spat at my feet. Gathering whatever pride I had left, I stood tall, taking my handkerchief out and wiping the blood off my skin. I moved slowly, trying to show off a pretense of calmness. Fighting her would be futile. I had a hundred pounds and a foot on her but I had no doubt she could break every bone in my body and beat me to within an inch of my life. I knew her reputation. "What's your name?" I asked, looking down at her. She eyed me in confusion. When I took a step forward, I loomed over her. I closed the space between us, bringing my face to hers close enough I could smell the lingering scent of tobacco in her breath. "You're Angel Lastor," I hissed. "My right hand. Bound to me by duty. I lead, you follow. I ask, you answer. I order, you obey. Or did running around with lowlifes and criminals make you forget that?" She was breathing harshly, on the verge of losing her control but far from relenting. I waited for her to attack me but she didn't make a move. "You think pulling rank can earn you my respect, brother?" she snarled. I drew back, sliding a palm over my hair and putting it back in place. "No. It puts you in your place. Under my authority." I walked past her, heading for the exit. "Gramps found an apartment for us. We'll be leaving by the end of the week. Pack lightly. I'll have a stylist prepare new clothes for you. I won't have you looking like a tattered doll beside me." "The f**k you talkin' about?" I looked over my shoulder. "You're living with me. In Jersey." She looked confused. "You live in Connecticut." "Not anymore." A stubborn look formed on her face. "If you think-" "Sunday morning. We'll take Ranger," I said as I walked out, leaving no room for her to argue. I headed for the stairs, passing Gramps in the sitting room as he sat by the fireplace doing his crosswords. I went to him, sitting beside him. High on adrenaline and still in a daze. I think I pissed myself. "She finally spoke to me," I whispered, unable to hide the disbelief in my voice. "I heard." I smiled. "She called me brother." "I heard that too." "She hit me," I said, rubbing my jaw. He chuckled. "She hits anyone who talks to her these days. Except me, of course." "She's stronger than I remember." "You should see her with a blade," he muttered, scribbling an answer on his puzzle. "Notice her bodyguard's face? She did that to him last month. Nearly blinded the poor fellow. When I asked why she did it, she said she was sick of looking at him." He paused, frowning at his puzzle. "What's seven letters and can hold thousands of screaming people?" "Stadium." "Ah!" "What happens now?" I asked, turning to face him fully. "Now is the hard part." He sighed, folding the newspaper and looking at me. "You've asked her to stay with you and you must return the favor. Stay with her. For all the bad and the few good moments she has." I felt tears in my eyes but I wasn't ashamed of it. I've waited for this for a long time. "I'm gonna bring her back. I promise. I won't give up." He smiled, holding the side of my head. "Just stay with her. Time will come that you will have no one but each other to rely on and it is on those times that you must become brother and sister above anything else. Take care of each other. Protect her. Don't let her hurt herself anymore." Something in the way he was speaking made me feel uneasy and when I looked at his eyes, seeing the tears in them, I knew something was wrong. Gramps never cried in front of anyone. Not even when Gammy died. The only time I saw him cry was when Angel had gone missing when she was ten and we found her in the crypt where Gammy was interned. She had wanted to take Gammy out of it and bring her back to Gramps. He'd cried so much then. "Gramps," I whispered. "What's really happening here?" He gave me a rueful smile, taking out a handkerchief from his pocket. When he spread it, blood was stained on the cloth. "Lung cancer. Stage 3. Inoperable. I refused treatment," he said, crumpling the cloth in his hand and for a split second, he seemed angry but then just as quickly, his smile appeared once again. "Ironic, I know. I don't even smoke." I couldn't speak. I couldn't even begin to comprehend it. Gramps never gets sick. Just last Christmas we had gone skiing and he beat me and Angel in a race. This is impossible. I heaved out a large breath, leaning forward and clutching my head. "You have cancer," I rasped, grimacing. "When did you find out?" "Does it matter?" "Are you going to die?" "I suppose that's the general idea of cancer. It kills you." I groaned, screwing my eyes shut. "Why? Why now? Why does it have to be like this? Why you?" "That, is a puzzle I cannot solve." He poured himself a glass of scotch. I swiped it off the table. "You're dying and yet you still drink like a f*****g sailor," I spat. "Have mercy on yourself." He sighed, bending over to pick up the glass. "I now know how little Angel feels when you do that to her drinks. No wonder the girl hasn't spoken to you in four years." "Will you stop?" I hissed, struggling to keep my voice down. "Stop with the clever remarks. Stop with your pathetic attempts at humor. Stop... stop this bullshit. You're not fooling anyone. So just stop and actually be true for once." I pushed myself up to my feet, going to the window and clutching the frame. I took deep breaths, grasping control over my emotions. It never did any good when I let them rule me. "You have to start treatment while you still have time. You have the means, use it. All of it." "I'm too old to survive and you know that." "So you're just going to accept this? You can't die, Gramps. I won't let you." "And I won't let any of you see me whither until all that's left of me are skin and bones. I have too much pride to be pitied." I hit the wall with my fist. "f**k your pride. This is your life on the line." "I have lived a long and arduous life. There's nothing else left for me to do. I'm ready." "I'm not. I can't do this without you," I said, digging my nails into the wood of the window frame. "And Angel... Angel will never be ready. She needs you." "She has you." "She can live without me. She has for the past four years. But if you die... god, it will destroy her." I turned to face him. "You know that right? That she will never heal. Whatever's left of the little girl you love so much will die with you and chances of her being happy again will be gone. She can never come back. Even if she stays clean, she still won't be the same. Without you she's just... a f*****g puppet that does and says what she's told." He smiled, almost sadly. "You cannot put your life on mine. That's unfair to all of us. Live your own lives. Make your own dreams. Don't put an end to a story that is still being written. Who's to say you won't find someone that will make you question everything that you know? And better yet, what if little Angel meets someone who gives her the will to be the best version of herself?" He stood, going to a table where picture frames had been laid. He picked up a picture of him and Gammy, and smiled. "Meeting Lily was something I never thought to hope for and falling in love with her wasn't in any plans I had. I was my father's heir and I had known for a long time that I would end up marrying someone that was chosen for me because that's how things are done in our family. But when Lily came into my life, I knew, I'd do anything to fight for my right to love her. I was nearly disowned by my father but I wouldn't hesitate to do it all over again. Just to live those moments with her again." He looked up at me, smiling. For once, it was a real smile. "I have no doubt that you and little Angel will find people who will love you, cherish you, and give you peace. Like Lily had done to me. And when those people come, hold onto them same way I held onto your grandmother. Fight for them. Life is meaningless if you do not have anyone to share it with." I shook my head, feeling like a boy who refused to believe Santa was not real. "Stop trying to say goodbye, Gramps." He came to me, holding either side of my head. "Your heart is made of steel. I know it will survive. But your sister has a tender one that hurts too deeply. I cannot forgive myself if I broke it. Please, be there for her. Help her grieve. Be strong for her. Don't leave her. You're all that she has now." I gritted my teeth, lowering my head to his shoulder as I tried to be the strong person he wanted me to be. As tiring as it was to constantly be strong, I did it. I had to. I couldn't allow cowardice to find a place within me. When I eventually pulled away, I gave him a silent promise that I won't ever leave my sister alone. He went to his room to rest and I had to hold back from asking him if I could sit in the room with him. He, more than my sister, despised receiving pity. So I sat alone in the sitting room, watching the fire, imagining the hundred ways Angel would attempt suicide when Gramps dies. And I imagined another hundred ways to save her. "Hey. You." I blinked and turned my head, seeing Angel leaning against the doorway, her head down. She looked up at me but quickly turned away. "Are you... talking to... me?" "Who f*****g else?" "My name isn't You." She rolled her eyes and threw an ice pack at me. I scrambled to catch it. "For the nose... and everything else." I gave her an odd look. "Thanks." "Gramps made me, FYI." She huffed, pushing her hair back. "He says I need to apologize or I can't have my bike. I ain't doing that, just so you know." "I'm not expecting you to." She nodded, looking anywhere but at me. "Good. You fuckin' deserved it, anyway." I arched a brow. "I wasn't the one who initiated the first attack." The corner of her lips twitched as if she was holding back a smile. She finally set her gaze on me, menace lurking behind her stormy grey eyes. "I meant you deserved to get your pretty face punched in for what you did to me. Leaving me and all," she said, her voice quiet with suppressed anger. "Hell, you deserve worse than a broken nose for it but I respect Gramps too much to spill blood in his home." I pursed my lips, unable to respond. She gave me a wry smile, so sweet and playful was her smile I almost wanted to believe it was real. "I'm never gonna forgive you, you know that right?" I swallowed hard. "Like I said, I'm not expecting you to." She nodded again, lowering her eyes to the floor. "So you said we're taking Ranger." I frowned and she elaborated. "When we leave. You said we'll be taking Ranger." "Oh. Yes, we are." "That's your chopper, right? The one outside." I could hear a hint of excitement in her voice but she pretended that she couldn't care less. "Yes, and it's called a helicopter. A chopper is a type of motorcycle." She scoffed. "Semantics." She looked at me from under her lashes. "Did you fly it when you came in?" "Yes." She nibbled at her lip. "Can I-" "No." She snapped her head up, scowling. "I know how to fly." "Do you have a license?" She huffed. "Not yet." "Ask me when you have one then." "Asshole." She stomped out of the room and I sighed. "You can be my co-pilot if you want." She turned, folding her arms across her chest. "Will you let me fly it?" I shrugged. "If I'm there, why not?" "I'll get my boots on." My brows furrowed. "I didn't mean now." She gave me a sharp look. "I've been locked up in this rotten place for two months and have spent every waking moment looking at ugly as f**k bodyguard. Get me the f**k outta here if you want me to pretend that I didn't hear you and Gramps talking." I could see how her eyes were screaming in agony and I wanted to hold her and tell her things will be okay because I was here now and I won't let anything bad happen to us. But she wasn't a little girl anymore who would believe the white lies I fed her to soothe her worries. So I got up and let her fly my helicopter even if it meant I was fearing for my life. When we looked down at the surrounding lands below us and at the sun setting over the horizon, she cried. I held her hand and when she gripped mine tightly, I cried with her. "We're okay," I whispered. She sucked in a breath, smothering her cries. "We're okay."

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Jett (Sabers MC. Book 1)

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