All He’ll Ever Be by W. Winters EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available For Free Download
- Author: W. Winters
- Language: English
- Genre: Romance Anthologies
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Carter
War is coming.
It’s something I’ve known for over two years.
Tick-tock. Tick-tock.
A tic in my jaw clenches in time with the rhythm of the clock, while the
skin over my knuckles turns white as my fist squeezes tighter. Tension rises
in my stiff shoulders and I have to remind myself to breathe in deeply and
let the strain of it all go away.
Tick-tock. It’s the only sound echoing off the walls of my office and
with each pass of the pendulum, the anger grows.
It’s always like this before I go to a meet. This one, in particular, sends a
thrill through my blood, the adrenaline pumping harder with each passing
minute.
My gaze drifts from the grandfather clock in my office to the shelves
next to it, then beneath them to the box made of mahogany and steel. It’s
only three feet deep and three feet tall by six feet long. It blends into the
wall of my office, surrounded by old books.
I paid more than I should have simply to put on a display. All any of this
is merely a façade. People’s perceptions are their reality. And so I paint the
picture they need to see so I can use them as I see fit. The expensive books
and artworks, polished furniture carved from rare wood… All of it is
bullshit.
Except for the box. The story that came with it will stay with me
forever. In all the years, it’s one of the few memories I can pinpoint as a
defining moment. The box never leaves me.
The words from the man who gave it to me are still so fresh, as is the
image of his pale green eyes, glossed over as he told me his story.
About how it kept him safe when he was a child. He told me how his
mother had shoved him in it to protect him.
I swallow thickly, feeling my throat tighten and the cords in my neck
strain at the recollection. He set the scene so well.
He told me how he clung to his mother, seeing how panicked she was.
But he did as he was told. He stayed quiet in the safe box and could only
listen while the men murdered his mother.
He offered to barter for his life with the box. And the story he gave me
reminded me of my own mother telling me goodbye before she passed.
Yes, his story was touching, but I put a gun to his head and pulled the
trigger regardless.
He tried to steal from me and then pay me with a box as if the money he
embezzled was a debt or a loan. William was good at thieving, at telling
stories, but the fucker was a dumb prick.
I didn’t get to where I am by playing nicely and being weak. On that
day, I took the box that saved him as a reminder of who I was. Who I
needed to be.
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