Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 129571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Tesoro, what’s going on? Why do they want us dead and apart so bad?
Chapter 12
Jasmine
At the four person table, Benny sat across from Troy. I groaned, realizing that either way I would have to sit next to his psycho behind.
Benny gestured to our plates. “Are you ready?”
I glanced at mine. “Is this the Chelsea bun thing you were talking about?”
“Oh yes. Prepare for an explosion of flavor in your mouth.”
The square pastry took up a good bit of the plate. Currants and sticky goodness formed a maze within the square. A sweet fragrance rose in the air.
I sat down and checked everyone else’s plates. Vivian and Troy had different items. Troy stuffed long strips of bacon into his mouth, chopping it every inch that went between his teeth like a beaver. With a spoon Vivian drew little swirls into her bowl of bananas and granola.
“You both aren’t going to try the buns?” I asked.
Troy spoke between meaty bites, “I don’t like raisins.”
“They’re not raisins. They’re currants.”
“They’re raisins.”
“Oh whatever.”
I turned to Vivian. “And what about you?”
Silent, Vivian frowned.
“Don’t waste your time.” Benny waved them both away. “They still haven’t warmed to the idea of family time.”
“Imagine that,” I muttered. Vivian looked up at me, her bottom lip shaking as if she held in a smart response to Benny’s declaration of family time.
I picked up the bun. Warmth and a mixture of melted butter and brown sugar stuck to my fingertips. “It smells good.”
A chubby woman waddled over to us and carried a large tray of more buns. “And how are we doing? I’m Louellen. Everyone calls me Lou.”
She held no British accent, which surprised me.
“Nice to meet you, Lou.” I took a bite of the bun and shuddered. Everything hit me at once—lemon and cinnamon, currants swimming in brown sugary goodness. A flaky texture lined the outside. On the inside, soft dough stuck to my teeth as I chewed. “Mmm.”
“I told you that you’d love it.” Benny dove into his own bun. Troy rolled his eyes.
Without asking Benny, Lou plopped another big bun on his plate. “I, myself, love to glaze a good bun with cherries. But, Big Ben asked for traditional ones.”
I swallowed. “Big Ben?”
“Her nickname for me.” Benny looked like he was going to say something else, but paused as his phone rang. “Just a minute.”
Troy continued his assault of the bacon and then shifted to destroying his eggs. Vivian just returned to drawing images in her cereal bowl. I took another chomp of the bun.
“I can’t believe you two can still eat,” Vivian mumbled.
Benny placed the phone to his ear. “Hello?”
And then things changed.
“What do you mean?” Benny dropped the bun. It fell to the plate’s center and then rolled off the edge. “What. The fuck. Do you mean?!”
Please don’t let it deal with Chase. Please, God, don’t let it be about him.
“How the hell did he know where that was?” Benny’s voice scraped against my skin. “Oh really?”
I did my best to pretend that I didn’t have my ear locked onto his every word. Granted, it made no sense to act that way, being that he was screaming into the phone.
Benny grabbed the knife next to his plate. “Both of them together? When was this?”
Before I could strain to hear what the person on the line could’ve been saying, Benny raised the knife in the air and struck his plate hard. The porcelain cracked in the middle. White hard pieces cut into his discarded bun.
Troy paused from eating, his fork in mid-air, cheesy eggs spilling off the edge.
My appetite disappeared. Every cell in my body screamed scoot over and get closer to Troy. But all I could do was hold the bun in the front of me like an idiot.
And then Benny rose from his chair and glared at us. “I’ll be busy today.”
What the hell does that mean?
“Carry on without me.” He slung his napkin on the table, not even explaining the mess he’d made. Lou scurried away with her tray of buns.
“Who was that?” I asked.
Benny didn’t look at me. “No one.”
“Had to be somebody,” I said, “if you had a freaking temper tantrum at the breakfast table.”
The old woman returned with a small trash can and large towel.
Benny stared down at the mess as if he’d had no idea he’d done it. “Sometimes I let my temper get the best of me.”
“Who called?” I asked.
“This doesn’t concern you.”
“Are you sure about that?”
He asked between clenched teeth, “Would it matter?”
I didn’t have a response.
“Why are you asking, Jasmine?” Benny asked. “Have you been calling anyone?”
I touched my chest. “What? I don’t even have a phone. And why are you acting suspicious with me, when someone else called you?”
Benny studied Troy and Vivian. “Anyone else been on the phone lately?”
They didn’t answer.
“Doesn’t matter.” Benny chuckled out of nowhere. How he was able to emit that noise through a frown, I would never understand. “So, Jasmine, you asked what that phone call was about. Nothing too serious. Just some bad news.”