The Girl He Craves

Meredith's pov

The young girl shuts the door behind Grant and me, leaving us in the presence of my father and Margo, who had been working here since I was young.

She beamed when she noticed me, her features lighting. "Meredith dear.’

She looked a bit peeved that she could not come over to me and had to remain positioned by father to nurse his wounds.

I looked at his wounds closely, smiling as I took a further step.

’Did Aiden do that to you?" I pointed at his nose and jaw. He looked like he had gotten punched relentlessly.

Father pushed Margo’s hand away from his lips. She had been dabbing a cloth on the split flesh.

’What do you think?’ He questioned, lounging back in his chair casually as though his face did not pain him. I didn’t miss the slight wince.

I grinned. I guess you deserve it, father. You are, after all, trying to ruin his life."

His grin widened. "I haven't tasted my own copper blood in years.” He licked his split lip. "I've missed the tang.”

I shook my head and walked over to the huge bookshelf. My fingers skim the backs and stopped on the huge book he used to read to me when I was younger.

He still had it.

I took it from the shelf, opening it to that page I knew was important. Grant leans over me protectively.

I smiled warmly at him, reassuring him with my eyes that my father would not hurt me.

He wasn't convinced.

’Grant, son. It's been a while. Sorry I hadn't seen you at first."

'Don't act like you like my presence here Sergio,’ Grant grunted, leaning against the shelf.

Father's eyes narrowed. "How has work been, still scrapping for money?"

with the Muralo's. He didn't understand that love was far

he

But now.

brushing my fingers over her face. "She

my gaze back to him, he's frozen.

stops me. I looked up into his concerned eyes and

smile and the silence

and reluctantly let me

stroll toward father who motioned for Margo to get

and nods. When she walks passed me she

actually grew up here. Her mom had been working for

I were

good to see you

"I would like to speak to my daughter

’He’s family. Whatever we speak about, he will be

Father's eyes narrowed.

got from this man, and it

He muttered, his voice casting

desk, right before him while

had done a number on

it, I knew he deserved

this?’ I whispered, keeping my eyes focused on him to see his

stiffened, his bony fingers

his face and I feel relieved. The man still had some humanity and

I forget?’ His watery smile

at with tears brimming in his eyes is the last family photo we took with mom. She had been awfully sick here but she was the one who prodded for

always a huge blur. It was because I was trying to forget them

was taken, mom died. She died

leave, but we were not ready for her to

of us, she suffered through the pain for years. And she didn't want to fight