Primal by James Michelle St

Author:James, Michelle St. [James, Michelle St.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Contemporary, Adult, Crime, Suspense
ISBN: 9780996605694
Amazon: B01B5E9WJ4
Goodreads: 29207581
Publisher: Blackthorn Press
Published: 2016-04-05T07:00:00+00:00

17

It was a cliche to be speechless. And yet she was. Utterly without words as she looked at the man Farrell introduced as his brother. That Evan Black was in a hospital of some kind — an institution? — was the least of it.

How had she known Farrell for so long, given birth to his daughter, and not known he had a brother?

She swallowed, forced herself to speak. “Hello, Evan. It’s very nice to meet you.” She held out her hand, but Farrell gently replaced it at her side.

There was a long beat of silence before Evan spoke again. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“May we sit with you a bit?” Farrell asked. “I have quite a lot to tell you.”

“I don’t make the rules,” Evan said.

“Yes, I know,” Farrell said. “Would you like some company?”

“Okay.”

Jenna was frozen, unsure what to do as Farrell pulled two chairs from one of the tables in the room and set them carefully next to Evan near the window. He gestured for Jenna to sit in the chair farthest from Evan, then took the seat between them.

“I’ve just come from Italy,” Farrell said. “It’s beautiful this time of year. Warm and fragrant. We grow oranges there. Did I ever tell you that?”

Evan didn't respond, but Jenna was beginning to understand this wasn’t unusual. She leaned back in her chair, realizing nothing was expected of her. This was Farrell, opening the door to a part of his world that had been locked away until now. A part that he’d kept secret even from her.

The idea pained her. Was this part of his determination to live on his terms? To be more dangerous than anyone else? To be richer?

She thought of the money Farrell’s organization brought in. She’d thought of it as blood money. Violence for profit. And it was. Nothing she’d seen today changed the fact that Farrell committed crimes — many of them violent — to earn his living.

But she couldn’t help seeing it through a softer lens. She looked around the spacious, sunlit room. Thought about the security out front, the grand piano they’d passed on the way to the sun room. The woman at the front desk had mentioned Evan playing. Was it there just for him? Bought by Farrell so that his brother, locked inside a prison of his own, could play on a beautiful instrument when the spirit moved him?

There were too many questions. Not enough answers.

She sat back in the chair, listened to Farrell talk to his brother about the villa, about the goats and the chickens, the grapes they would press for wine in the fall, the oranges you could eat right off the trees. He told Evan about Lily, about how beautiful and innocent she was. He said he hoped Evan would meet her someday, and Jenna thought she saw the one and only flicker of interest pass over Evan’s features in the moment before his expression became blank again.

He was a softer version of Farrell, nearly as tall, but lanky, almost too thin.

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