Claimed by The Killer Read Online Flora Ferrari

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Funny, Insta-Love Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 44963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
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It’s what I overheard earlier. Luke called Dad by a different name. Phil.

We drive down the interstate. The cars we pass have no clue about the drama about to unfold in this car.

I try to push it down, to wait until this is over, remembering the argument with Dad, but how can I? It’s not fair to have to ignore something so huge.

“Who’s Phil?” I ask.

Dad tenses up next to me. Luke’s icy blues flash into the rearview.

“Where did you hear that name?” Dad asks.

“Before we left, I…”

“You were eavesdropping.”

Shame touches me, but then I spin at him. “Well yeah, Dad, I was because clearly you and Luke know each other. It was obvious when he took his mask off. The way you looked at him and gasped. It’s not fair for me not to know.”

Maybe this is selfish because Dad doesn’t know why I badly need to understand. He doesn’t know the implications it could have for me and Luke. Whatever they were to each other, it changes things.

“Do you want to tell her?” Dad says, staring at Luke.

“It’s not my place.”

Dad scratches at his birthmark, as he often does, but this time it’s more aggressive, like he’s trying to focus on the physical discomfort, so he doesn’t have to experience the emotional.

“Phil was my name before I met your mother,” he says after a long pause, as fields whiz past us, and we overtake cars.

I keep my exterior composed, though shock grips me.

“Phil,” I repeat.

“I told you two loving parents raised me who, unfortunately, died when I was in my early twenties.”

“Yeah…”

“I’m sorry, but that was a lie. I told the lie because the truth hurt too much. I grew up in the system, in a series of foster homes, then halfway houses. When I was nine years old, I met a friend… the best friend I ever had.”

I know what he’s going to say. I almost scream so he doesn’t say it. That will mean I’ve kissed my dad’s ex-best friend, been intimate with him.

Why didn’t Luke tell me? He was right. It’s not his place.

“We were, weren’t we?” Dad says, looking over at Luke.

“There’s no doubt about that,” Luke says. “We were best friends through and through.”

“We did everything together,” Dad goes on. “I knew Luke had it tough. His old man—”

Luke lets out a shuddering breath through clenched teeth.

“But that’s not my place,” Dad goes on, causing my curiosity to expand with the force of a freaking atom bomb on detonation.

“Luke and I were feral kids. We’d run around the neighborhood, causing mayhem, trying to make a quick buck, but Luke taught me to be good, too.”

“How?” I whisper.

“None of that matters now,” Luke says.

Dad smiles sadly. “What is it? You don’t want people to know you had a heart once?”

He has a heart now, Dad, bigger than you’d believe.

“How?” I ask more insistently.

“He did groceries for several elderly people in the neighborhood. He used to stand up to bullies when they were giving the weaker kids grief. That was before his dad found out and…”

“Persuaded me to stop,” Luke says darkly.

His grim tone lets me know that the persuasion probably involved more than words.

“As we got older, we started getting involved in more serious crimes. We met mob types. Luke had his own thing going on, a strange path… but that’s not for me to say.”

“Getting involved,” Luke repeats grimly. “That’s one way to put it.”

“I can’t tell her that part,” Dad says, his voice sharp, a flash of anger in his tone.

What part? I almost ask, but I can tell Luke doesn’t want to share it. It’s in the darkness of his aura, which is pretty hippy to think. Aura. That’s how it seems… like a dark cloud is gathering around him, full of pain and anger.

“It looked like I would be a criminal,” Dad goes on. “That’s the path I was taking. I didn’t care about anything other than the next rush of adrenalin. I did things I’m ashamed of, Violet. Stole cars, robbed stores.”

“You never hurt anybody,” Luke snaps. “You were never violent. You were just a kid running around causing mayhem. You never became what I did.”

Luke speaks with that tinge of agony, as if a piece of him wants to turn back time to when they were kids—my dad and my lover, best friends swinging destructively around the city like two wrecking balls.

“Why didn’t you go down that path?” I ask. It’s difficult to speak, to force the words out. All I can think about is how much more complicated this is… our path, mine and Luke’s—from the kissing to the lust to the closeness. It’s all clashing with this new version of Dad—my dad, a totally different man, or at least a different start in life than I ever could’ve guessed.


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