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“And your dad, is he still alive?”
“Barely. Last I heard he was living in an abandoned warehouse wasting away from liver disease and addiction. I don’t give a fuck, honestly. He deserves whatever shitty life he’s barely living.”
“Yeah,” I agree.
“You know, I often wonder if things would’ve turned out differently had my mum still been alive.”
“Would they have?”
“Maybe. She was a straight talking woman. Agoodwoman.” He sighs, scraping a hand over his head. “And I might’ve been a good man for her. Or at least tried harder to be.”
“Youarea good man, Beast.”
“I think you’ve got me all wrong, Princess,” he scoffs, shaking his head.
“I don’t think I do. You have a moral compass. Look what you did for that little girl and her aunt…” I say, knowing deep down that was all on him and had nothing to do with Carter.
That thought stings, because for a long time Carter had been my idol of sorts. Of late my rose tinted glasses have been removed, and I’m beginning to see him as others do.
“That was guilt,” he mutters, taking another sip of his coffee.
“No,” I disagree. “Maybe there’s more of your mum inside of you than you think.”
“It’s a nice thought, but I know who and what I am, Princess, as should you.”
“But I do.”
“You don’t. But that’s irrelevant.” He gives me a guarded look then asks, “Why did you come tonight when I told you not to?”
“Because no one tells me what I can and can’t do,” I reply, twisting my body away from him, and blindly staring at the plans.
“Maybe that’s part of it, because we all know you’re stubborn, but there’s more to it than that.”
“Carter wanted me there,” I shrug. “I figured it would be for a good reason.”
“Yeah, to put a bullet in Saxon’s brain. He was testing you.”
“And I failed.”
“That all depends.”
“On what?”
“On whose point of view.”
“Carter’s point of view is the only one that matters.” Even as I say the words I hate the way it sounds.
“Really, theonlyone?” he questions, stealing another glance at me.
“Yours then?”
“Fuck no.” He shakes his head, chuckling. “What I think is irrelevant when all is said and done.”
“Yet you didn’t want me to go to the club tonight. You didn’t want me to shoot Saxon.”
“Of course I fucking didn’t.”
“Why? Why does it matter to you so much?” I ask.
