Here's an oldie, but goodie. I've switched up the cover of Retribution because it was time. Enjoy this sample ...
Xavier didn’t care if Justine was married. That made her off-limits, which worked for him because his gut told him she’d do even more damage if he opened himself to her a second time.
He was now as close as he could come to being happy. He needed nothing to add to his wellbeing except a relationship with his son, which might prove ticklish to manage. While he was getting to know Emile, Xavier would find out whatever he needed to know about Justine’s situation.
He waited a few more seconds then decided that since she didn’t plan to do anything for them to get better acquainted, he had to do it himself.
“So Emile, tell me some of the stuff you like to do.”
“Running, riding my bicycle, swimming, watching TV, drumming.” He took his mother to task with a frown. “But Mommy won’t let me have any drums. She can’t handle the noise with both drums and a guitar.”
Xavier put aside the question he wanted to ask and let his smile spread from within to without. “I teach kids music.”
Emile sat forward, both hands on the table, eyes open to capacity. “Really?”
Xavier nodded, ignoring the ice chips flowing off Justine.
“Cooooool!” Emile’s head snapped toward Justine. “Mom, can I have lessons?”
“I, uh…I’ll think about it.”
Emile slouched, folded his arms, and pouted. “You let Yolanda get lessons, so why can’t I have some too?”
“You don’t stick with anything for long.”
“Mom!” The word stretched into three syllables. “You know I like the drums. Kevin’s father got him a set and the only time I get to practice is at his house. Why can’t I—?”
“That’s enough,” Justine said. A look passed between mother and son, after which Emile pushed back his chair from the table, scrunched down further in the seat and blinked hard a few times.
“It wouldn’t cost you,” Xavier said.
“That’s not the point,” she snapped.
“What is the point, Justine?”
She concentrated on something over his shoulder. “I don’t want…”
“You owe me,” Xavier whispered, leaning forward.
“I don’t owe you anything,” she hissed back.
Xavier licked his lips and prayed for patience. “This can be easy or nasty. Your choice.”
She pulled her hand into a fist, staring at the tablecloth.
He sighed, rubbing his forehead. “You have to deal with this. I’m not going to disappear. Matter of fact, I don’t care what you do, as long as I get to see Emile.”
She winced, as though he’d hit her, but said nothing. He quashed the sympathy stirring inside him. She was selfish and thoughtless. Why should he care about her feelings?
To read more, check out Retribution here on Amazon.
