The Don's Baby: A Bad Boy Romance - Plot & Excerpts
I had spent nearly the entire two months since I had received the phone call from my mom telling me dad was dead in bed, doing nothing. It was more accurate to say that I was trying to do nothing. What I was doing instead was ruminating on the darkest thoughts that I could surrounding what had happened and how. Of course, that was what I was doing. I was so good at it after all. I had completely refused to see the body or to hear more about the event than I absolutely needed to. My imagination was colorful enough to fill in the blanks that I didn’t want filled and to apply the horror that such an event obviously needed. It was absolutely gruesome to imagine your parent dead. It was more gruesome to imagine them being murdered. What had my dad been thinking right before it had happened? Had he felt pain? It pained me to think that it had been slow and painful for him. It pained me even more to think about who could possibly have done it.
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