Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 123212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
I reach Colton’s door and find myself pausing with my hand resting heavily on the doorknob. Am I making a mistake? Maybe I’m about to walk into a trap.
I can’t back out. I have to see this through. I want to be able to look back on my life one day and know that I made the right decisions, not just for myself but for the people around me even though it might have been hard. That's the kind of life I want to live. I want to be strong. I want to be someone reliable, and someone that my father would be proud of.
I can do this.
I let out a shaky breath and slowly open the door.
The smell hits me first. It’s like a fucking dirty bar from back home in here. Hell, it’s worse than that. It's like dealing with the bullshit that comes after one of the many Black Widow parties.
I look around the empty room and find more than just alcohol scattered over his tables. There are empty bottles of scotch thrown carelessly over the couch, spilled drinks on his bed, plates of food fallen off his desk while a little white bag of powder has been broken open, spreading all the contents far and wide. From the looks of things, I’d say there’s probably more white powder in the carpet than in his actual bloodstream.
I hear the shower running in his private bathroom and I pray to whoever exists above that Colton hasn’t collapsed in there. With the cocktail of alcohol pulsing through his veins, it’d be a miracle if he makes it through the night without getting alcohol poisoning
Colton needs a fucking smack across the head and cleanup crew in here. And unfortunately for me, that job is resting heavily on my shoulders.
I let out a broken sigh and start cleaning up his shit while keeping an ear out for the shower, making sure he doesn’t pass out or worse. I hurry around his room, opening the window and hoping that helps to clear out some of the smell, though that probably won’t happen until the couch can have a deep clean and the carpets are shampooed.
I strip the alcohol-drenched sheets off his bed and quickly remake it, not doing nearly as good of a job that Maryne or Mom could do but at least he’ll have a clean bed to sleep in tonight.
After clearing out everything that doesn’t belong and leaving it out in the hallway for the maids to take care of, I find my way into his massive walk-in closet. I can’t say that I’ve been in here before. It’s fucking massive. I don’t even know where to start.
I switch on the light and watch as the room powers up. There’s a rotating wall of suits and I gawk at it. Why am I surprised by this shit? There’s a whole section for shoes, ties, watches and then on the opposite side are his normal everyday clothes. It’s insane in here. This whole closet is literally bigger than one of the classrooms back at Breakers Flats High. If Milo’s closet is anything like this, it’s no surprise why he’s been hiding out in it for so long.
Hearing the shower still in full swing, I get busy going over the options. I find a nice three-piece suit, match it with a tie, shoes, socks, and a watch before finding the cufflinks and staring. There are fucking diamonds on some of these. It baffles me what kind of money is inside this home.
I find the little cufflinks that I’d seen Colton wearing during the black and white party, the ones that read CC, and I don’t doubt his father would have owned an identical pair.
I set out his suit on his clean desk before diving back in and finding him a pair of boxers to wear to bed. I look over the pajama section before quickly realizing that he probably isn’t a big pajama wearer. I grab a pair of sweatpants just to be on the safe side and as I walk back out, I find a small plastic trashcan just inside of the closet door and I scoop it up. After all, it’s better to be safe than sorry.
The boxers and sweatpants get tossed down onto his made bed while the trashcan goes down beside it, knowing he’s bound to need that during the night.
I’m in the middle of placing some painkillers on his bedside table when the shower cuts off and the bathroom door opens with a rush of steam blowing out into his room.
Colton comes striding through with a white towel wrapped dangerously low around his hips, making me wish for a slight breeze to come through the open window and send it sailing down to the carpet.
Nerves rush through me as I watch him walk out of the bathroom. His eyes instantly find mine and I immediately stop what I’m doing, feeling like a kid who’s just been caught with her fingers in the cookie jar.