Submerged(Bound Together Book 1)(87)
Late last night I also realized that Blake didn’t use me to get close to my father. I probably knew it all along, but sometimes it takes that bolt of lightning straight to the head to shock you into seeing the big picture instead of focusing on your anger. If Blake ever used our conversations as fishing exhibitions, it was because he was doing his job. My father was–is–the criminal here, and Blake’s job is to make sure the criminals of the world are taken off the streets so they can be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. Never did I feel like those nights I spent wrapped up in Blake’s strong arms were because of anything other than him wanting to be there. Him wanting me. It’s a revelation I wish I had shared with him at three o’clock this morning when I was wide awake and missing him something fierce. Hindsight.
The thought of never experiencing Blake’s arms around me again makes my heart bleed. My vision blurs with unshed tears as I think about never telling him how much I love him. He told me a few days ago, and I threw it in his face like an insult. As if his words didn’t mean anything. But the thing is, those words meant everything to me. Even if I didn’t realize it at the time, hearing him say those three little words will forever be tattooed in my brain. So will my response before I walked away.
If I see Blake again, the first thing I’m going to do is throw my arms around him and kiss his full lips. If I close my eyes now, I can almost picture him standing before me, all broad and sexy in his dark blue jeans, tight black t-shirt, and worn leather jacket. His hair is slightly mussed from the breeze, and his emerald green eyes shine brighter than the sun reflecting off dewed grass. His jaw littered with a day or two’s growth. His tattoo–the one he got that represents his loyalty to his job, along with the wildflowers–on full display. My fingers itch to trace the outline of the eagle just once more. If I never get a chance to tell him how much I love him, it’ll haunt me for the rest of my days. Blake and the love we could have shared will always plague me.
I can’t–no, I won’t let this end without speaking the words I need to say. I will do whatever it takes to make it back to Blake. Not only for myself but for our daughter.
Natalia is curled up against my chest, fighting sleep with everything she has. Little whimpers fill the quiet garage space as she does everything she can to keep herself awake. I smile at how her stubbornness is the spitting image of Blake’s. She has so many of his personality traits that it’s not funny.
“Are you going to tell me what you want?” I ask, seemingly putting on my big girl panties and looking for a way to get us safely out of this situation.
“Didn’t your boyfriend tell you?”
“Tell me what?” I ask.
“Who he really is.”
“Yes, he did.”
“Well, sweetheart, you may be okay with it, but I am not. Blake is a snake in the grass. And like any no-good snake, the only way to get rid of it is to cut off the head.”
“So, that’s it? You’re going to kill him? For what? Because he was smarter than you and took down the entire organization?” Baiting the criminal might not be my brightest idea, but I’m running out of options here.
“Funny you’re defending the man who put your father in prison.”
“My father put himself in prison when he chose the life of crime and theft. Blake was just the agent who helped bring him down.”
“Yeah, well I can’t get over it as quickly as you, sweetheart. I’m still pissed as hell. But I have a way of ensuring that Blake does exactly what I want. I’ve got his girl and his daughter. Now, I hold all of the cards.”
“What are you going to do with us?” I ask, afraid of what the answer might be, but I have to know what I’m up against.
“That’s up to Blake. If he cooperates, your daughter will lead a full, healthy life, and you’ll be there to see it. If he doesn’t, well…let’s just say that today is the last day you’ll ever see.” The look in his eyes tells me all I need to know. This man isn’t joking. He isn’t fooling around or blowing smoke up anyone’s ass. He’s serious. Dead serious.
“What is it that you want?” I ask swallowing the lump that is lodged in my throat.
“To have a little chat with Mr. Thomas,” he says while pulling a long barreled revolver out of the back waistband of his pants. “You see, I started to suspect that ol’ Blake was hiding something a few months ago. Oh, he was careful, that’s for sure. I didn’t find anything in his apartment that led me to his true identity. It wasn’t until the night that the cops showed up that all of the major pieces started to fall into place.”