Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Why now? I glance at the tablet in my hands at DJ. She still hasn’t moved.
“Hello,” I answer the call.
“Hello, Brooklyn.”
“Phoebe. How can I help you?”
“Oh, no. I’m calling to help you. Although you’re not going to like this.”
“I’m listening.”
“Are you? Because it’s important that you do. You will lose everything if you don’t. The crown, the empire, the clan, and most importantly to you, the girl.”
“Yes, I’m listening.”
“Good, I need you to step back. Don’t enter that house. Leave her to her anger for now. She will learn the truth when it’s time.
“If you ignore my warning, your tempers will get in the way, and she will never arrive in the place that matters.”
“The place that matters?” I ask in confusion.
“Ah, yes. You are to be king—one of the various Kings of New York, and one of the most powerful there is. Your brother will lean on you when times call for it, and you will need to lean on your queen.
“A queen meant to be one of the Bellas. Not just any Bella, but the right hand of Death herself. You will resist at times, but this is the way it must be.
“Congratulations, King Cole. You’re in the major leagues now. Make the right decision. I will be in touch when the time is right.”
With that, the line goes dead. I sit staring out of the windshield. I know not to ignore the old gypsy. However, her words don’t entirely make sense to me.
I glance down at the tablet, unseeing. The one thing to stick out from Phoebe’s words is that I’ll lose DJ if I enter that house.
“Fuck,” I roar and punch the steering wheel.
Before I pull off, I take a screenshot of DJ lying in our bed. Then I do the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life: I drive away.
CHAPTER 32
AGift for You
Deja
Three months later …
I’ve been going through the motions for the last three months. Nothing matters. I’m putting one foot in front of the other.
I had planned to leave, but Carrick and Graham showed up at the house the next morning—after I had beaten the hell out of Cole’s car—to let me know the house was mine and I didn’t have to leave.
I thought long and hard about whether or not I should leave. In the end, I decided to stay as long as Cole stays away from me. Now I’m not sure if I’m happy that he has or disappointed that he didn’t even fight for us.
I should feel silly for that, but here’s the thing. Cole was my friend way before whatever we became. When we were younger, he was someone I could trust, someone I would talk to. I can’t believe this is who he turned out to be.
“Hey, Deja, earth to Deja.”
I’m brought out of my thoughts as I stand behind the bar in the pub. I should be getting ready to open. I look up to find Graham McGowan staring back at me.
I smile and tilt my head to the side. Graham is handsome. That red hair suits him. His hazel-blue eyes always have mirth dancing in them.
He’s a big lad, but something about his presence is welcoming and calming. I don’t mind that the cousins still come around. They make me feel like I did gain something from coming here.
“What about ye?” I say as I focus.
“I have something for ya. He-who-shall-not-be-named sent it for ya. Where should I put this?” he says as he holds up a long box.
I frown, knowing the gift is from Cole. So much for him staying away. At least he knows not to come around here himself.
I point for Graham to place the box down on the bar top. He places it down then stands there with his arms folded across his chest. I snort and lift a brow.
“Well, yer going to open it, aren’t ya?”
I laugh and shake my head. “It could be something private,” I mutter.
“I doubt he would have had it sent here if it were,” he says pointedly.
“This is Cole. I’m sure he wouldn’t give a shite either way.”
“Ya have a point. If it’s a replica of his bod, just shut it back and I’ll go mind my own business.”
“Or ya could mind yer business now and I could open it when I feel like it,” I say.
“Aye, but we both know I’m not going to do that.”
“Ach, yer doing my head in. Fine.”
I open the box and can’t help the smile that comes to my face. It’s a new matte-black-painted baseball bat. There’s a metal plate fixed to the end.
I bring the bat to my face to read the inscription on the plate. My smile wobbles a little.
DJ and Cole. A force together.
The year and date of our anniversary are under the message. I frown and toss the bat back into the box. I don’t even bother to pick up the note that’s in the box.