Total pages in book: 198
Estimated words: 186242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 931(@200wpm)___ 745(@250wpm)___ 621(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 186242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 931(@200wpm)___ 745(@250wpm)___ 621(@300wpm)
And that this kid either knew too much or really had fallen for the façade that I’d presented to the world. For all the lies and smoke and mirrors I’d had to employ to be around someone I’d loved. A reminder that I hadn’t deleted pictures off my Picturegram of a life I used to have. I had been careful on my account to never take any romantic-looking pictures—or fear the wrath of Mrs. Jones.
Maybe I should make my page private, now that I thought about it, so that the Antichrist didn’t snoop. I had only posted a handful of times over the last year and hadn’t tagged any place I’d been. Old habits died hard.
The man’s eyes flicked to me for maybe all of a second before they went back to the boy, and he said, “Does it look like I care? She could be Mother Teresa, and I still wouldn’t want anybody here. It isn’t safe to have some stranger hanging around our house.”
Technically, I wouldn’t be “hanging around.” I’d stay here in this garage apartment and never bother anybody.
Seeing my opportunity disappearing with every word that came out of the man’s mouth, I knew I had to act fast. Luckily for me, I liked fixing things and was good at it. “I cross my heart I’m not a psycho. I’ve only gotten one ticket in my whole life, and it was for going ten over, but in my defense, I had to pee really bad. You can call my aunt and uncle if you want a character reference, and they’ll tell you I’m a pretty good person. You can text my nephews if you want, because they won’t answer even if you blow up their phones.”
The boy looked over his shoulder again, eyes wide and still frantic, but the man . . . well, he wasn’t smiling at all. What he was doing was glaring at me over his son’s shoulder. Again. In fact, his expression went flat, but before he could say a word, the kid jumped on my train of defense.
His voice was still low but impassioned. He must really want that three-thousand-dollar guitar. “I know what I did was shady, but you were gonna be gone a whole month, and she’s a girl”—there were female serial killers out there, but now didn’t seem like the right time to bring that up—“so I figured you wouldn’t, like, have to worry. I bought an alarm system I was gonna install on the windows anyway, and nobody was gonna get through the dead bolts on the door.”
The man shook his head, and I was pretty sure his eyes were wider than they normally would have been. “No, Amos. No. Your sneaky shit is not winning me over. If anything, it’s just pissing me off even more that you’d lie to me. What the hell were you thinking? What were you going to tell your uncle Johnny when he came over to check on you while I was gone? Huh? I can’t believe you’d go behind my back after I told you no so many times. I’m trying to protect you, man. What’s wrong with that?”
Then that intense face focused down as he shook his head, shoulders dropping so low I felt so intrusive for witnessing it, for being here to notice the sheer disappointment that was so apparent on every line of this father’s body as he stood there, processing this act of betrayal. He seemed to exhale before glancing back up, zeroing in on me that time, and said, gruffly, and I was pretty sure genuinely hurt by the actions of the teenager, “He’ll get you a refund the second we get back in the house, but you aren’t staying. You shouldn’t have been able to ‘make a reservation’ in the first place.”
I choked. At least inside I did. Because no.
No.
I hadn’t even realized when I’d dropped my hands from the position they’d been in, still in the air, but they were down and my palms were flat on my stomach, the pepper spray in my fingers, the rest of my body consumed by a mixture of worry, panic, and disappointment at the same time.
I was thirty-three years old, and like a tree, I’d lost all of my leaves, so much of what had made me me; but just like a tree, my branches and my roots were still there. And I was being reborn with a whole new set of leaves, bright and green and full of life. So I had to try. I had to. There weren’t any other rentals like this.
“Please,” I said, not even wincing at just how croaked that one single word sounded out of my mouth. It was now or never. “I understand why you’re upset, and you have every right to be. I don’t blame you for wanting to take care of your son and not risk his safety but . . .”