Revenge: A Bad Boy Romance Read Online Free

part of this morning, could be heard in the background. Dad liked to show his face occasionally, although he rarely threw the punches these days. He wasn’t in the best of shape anymore, and even throwing a few punches left him out of breath. Not that he’d ever admit as much, and he’d kill anyone who dared insinuate it. Even me.
    “Was that your idea of a joke?” I asked angrily. It never paid to be soft or deferential with Dad. He’d only see it as a sign of weakness.
    “Get to the point, Denton. I’m kind of busy right now.”  
    As if to emphasize his point, a man groaned loudly as the air was forced from his lungs following a punch to the gut.  
    “I’ve just interviewed a young girl for a job as my new personal assistant.”
    “Good. About time you got a new one.”
    About time? Christ, Kara had only been dead a couple of months. Was the official mourning period over already?
    “And you thought one who looked like Kara would be a good replacement?”
    “What? How the hell would I know what she looked like?”
    “I assumed you scheduled the interview.”
    “I have more important things to worry about than what lucky girl gets to be your PA and bed warmer. She probably went through the usual channels.”
    Even now she was dead, Dad didn’t treat Kara with any more respect than he would afford to one of his mistresses. He was nice enough when he wanted something from them, but a piece of shit otherwise.
    “Whatever. I showed her the door.”  
    “You need a PA, son. You’re a fucking shitshow without someone telling you where to go and when.”
    “I’ll find one myself, and I’ll take as long as I want.”
    “If you pull some shit like you did with the Mitchell brothers that time then you’re going to get more than a thrash around the ears the next time I see you.”
    Would he ever let me forget that? I’d hooked up with some chick and spent the night screwing. I missed a debt collection, and the guys skipped town, never to be seen again, along with about twenty thousand dollars.
    “Good speaking to you too, Dad,” I said, as I hung up the phone.
    Maybe I was just being paranoid. Chloe and Kara were both in their early twenties with long brown hair and relatively slim builds. They were hardly the only people in Chicago who fit that description. The likeness might have been entirely in my head.
    It had been a long morning. The one lead I had on Kara’s killer had proved to be a dead end just like all the others. I would get him in the end. Roddy Barton was living on borrowed time.  
    I looked down at my hands and realized they were covered in dried blood from my little breakfast networking event this morning. That must have been there during the entire interview, but Chloe had never batted an eyelid at it.
    What was that she said about her dad? Killed by the police. She looked all sweet and innocent on the outside, but perhaps her upbringing had a little in common with mine. A little, not a lot. No one’s upbringing could be quite like mine.
    I went to the bathroom to wash my hands, and splash some cold water on my face. Looking myself in the mirror afterwards was always the hardest part. When the rage hit, I could roll with the punches, so to speak, but when the adrenaline had left my system I often found myself haunted by my actions.
    Not that I regretted what I did this morning. I’d have done anything short of killing that man if it gave me even a one-in-ten chance of finding Kara’s killer.  
    But not regretting it didn’t make it any easier to live with my actions. At least I hadn’t been beating up random men who owed my dad money. I hated it when he left me in charge of the dirty work.  
    I didn’t have to do it myself, that’s what the hired thugs were for, but I didn’t feel right asking people to do something I wouldn’t do personally. That was my dad’s modus operandi and I was determined not to take after him, even if it did look inevitable that I would take