He Called Me His Plaything in Front of His Men, So I Left Carrying His Heir novel · Chapter 12 of 24
Chapter 12: The Driver
Aurelio's POV
I was washing the coffee urns in the church hall at ten the next morning when the driver came to the door.
I had not slept.
I had stood on Ximena's porch until the Escalade pulled away at three.
Then I had walked the Westside until it was light, with the cold in my coat and her mouth still on mine.
At seven I had come here, to the only place I could think of, and stood in the kitchen door.
Her mother had looked me up and down.
She had handed me the dish towel without a word and pointed at the urns.
I had been grateful to her ever since.
I was up to my elbows in soapy water, scraping the brown ring out of a forty-cup percolator, when the light in the doorway changed.
I knew who it was before I turned.
He had driven me since I was nineteen.
He had taken me to my father's funeral and to my first meeting at the long table.
He had taken me to the hospital the night I broke my nose, and to a hundred Sunday dinners.
He was a heavy, quiet man with a flat gray face and a flat hat held in both hands.
The rest of this chapter is part of the paid portion of the series. Chapters 1–6 of He Called Me His Plaything in Front of His Men, So I Left Carrying His Heir are free to read — start from the beginning, then unlock the rest with coins in the app.
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