Deliver Me From Evil (Augustine Brothers #2) Read Online Natasha Knight

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Mafia, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Augustine Brothers Series by Natasha Knight
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Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
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Madelena at the lighthouse. Madelena pursued, running out onto the catwalk. Madelena in Thiago’s place too close to the edge. A hand on her chest. She catches the wrist of that hand but she’s not strong enough to hold on when she’s pushed and she goes tumbling. A thousand little blue stones bounce onto the catwalk, raining down on her as she falls, falls, falls, hair a dark halo around her, arms reaching, grasping at air, at nothing, her mouth open on a scream.

My eyelids fly open, and I bolt upright. Sweat covers me from head to toe as I gasp for breath. My chest feels like someone is sitting on it and I can’t breathe.

“Santos?”

I blink, then shift my gaze to Madelena. She looks up, sleepy, and smiles. She closes her eyes and stills again.

Just a nightmare. Just my mind working overtime. She’s here, at my side, in my bed. She’s safe.

I know one thing for sure. I know it in my heart, in my head. I caress her hair, slip out of the bed, and tuck the blanket around her. I lean down to kiss her forehead and whisper the same words into her ear that she’d whispered to me in her half-sleep.

“I love you, too.”

I look at her for a long, long moment before straightening. I pull on my pants and on my way to the door, I glance at the box. One of the kitchen staff mentioned to Val that she’d seen Madelena emerge from my study. With a quick look around, I’d found the bent pin on the floor in front of my desk and put two and two together.

I slide my hand into my pocket to take out the key, ignoring the smooth, hard bead of the bracelet I’d thought belonged to my brother. Sliding the key into the lock, I turn it, then open the box. I glance inside and find the feelings that usually come with looking at the contents of this box are different… not so powerful, suddenly.

Leaving it like that, I grab my shirt on my way out of the bedroom. Down the hall, I choose an empty guest room. There, I shower so as not to wake Madelena and put on the same clothes I’d worn earlier. I go downstairs to the kitchen, where a whole roasted chicken sits wrapped in the refrigerator. The dinner we missed.

I find some bread, make myself a chicken sandwich, and carry it into the study. The house is quiet; the staff all went to bed hours ago. I close the door behind me and switch on the overhead light. Setting the plate on the edge of my desk, I pick up the sandwich and take a bite, looking around at the boxes that need to be unpacked. It’s not too bad. Most of what I keep is electronic, and anything pertinent to have on paper is locked up in the safe only I have the combination to.

The chicken is good, and I’m hungry. I eat the sandwich and look up at my dad’s portrait.

“What did you mean leaving that letter, old man?”

Once I’ve finished the sandwich, I set the plate aside and move to sit in my chair. I swivel around and slide open the cabinet door to unlock the safe. Inside are stacks of cash—which are always handy—and some personal documents. There are also several USB sticks containing five years’ worth of highly sensitive information on too many high-ranking officials to count, including the Avery family, all of it collected during my time with them.

But those aren’t the things I’m interested in.

I take out the envelope I want and swivel my chair back around to set it on the desk. I take out the single sentence letter inside. I look at my dad’s familiar writing, the pen pushing a little too hard:

I know what you did, and this is your punishment.

“What did you mean? Who did you mean?”

There’s a soft knock on the door, and I look up as it opens. Madelena stands in the doorway, her hair wet from a shower. She’s wearing an oversized T-shirt that comes to mid-thigh, and I realize it’s one of mine. Probably the one I’d put her in after bringing her home from the lighthouse. In her arms, she’s carrying the box.

“You should sleep,” I tell her, setting the letter on the desk and getting up to take the box from her.

She closes the door as I walk the box to my desk, and when I turn around, she wraps her arms so tight around me it catches me completely by surprise. When I hear her sniffle, I find myself wrapping one arm around her waist, cupping the back of her head with the other and pulling back to look at her.

“What is it?” I ask, wiping her tears.


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