Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
“Was it you? Were you up there on the catwalk? Did you push Thiago?”
He snorts, shakes his head, the look in his eyes that of a man betrayed. “I had it repaired after the climb a few years ago. I broke it. Fucking searched for an hour for all the beads. I didn’t think about what kind of clasp the jeweler was putting on it. Didn’t think it mattered. Had I known you’d accuse me of murder, I’d have paid more attention. Asked for a fucking receipt.” He shoves me away. “You know what, fuck you. Fuck you, Santos. Mom’s right. You’ve forgotten what side you’re on. Why we’re doing this. You got lost in that girl years ago, you know that? Before you even bedded her, you were under her spell. I knew it from day one. I knew it from the way you looked at her. Another Alexia, a second chance. You’re a fucking idiot, Brother. Get the fuck out of here, and if you fucking touch a hair on our mother’s head, I swear, I will make your wife pay. Like for like.”
I slam my hands against his chest and shove him against the wall. “You go near her, never mind touching her—you go near her, and I’ll fucking tear you limb from limb. You hear me? I’ll fucking kill you, Caius. Mark my words. I will kill you. Stay away from my wife. Stay away from us. This is over.”
I shove him out of the way and stalk out of that apartment, that building. As dark clouds swallow up the bright blue of this once-promising day, I walk, and I walk because I’ve failed Madelena… and I’ve lost my family.
27
SANTOS
I drive myself in a rage-filled fog to Fairweather’s office. Val meets me there, and we head in along with one more soldier. The receptionist looks up from her place behind a desk that spans almost the length of the wall, alarm registering immediately in her eyes. Two women seated in the waiting area glance at us from their magazines.
“Can I help you?” the receptionist asks, looking from me to Val and back.
“Fairweather. Where is he?”
“Um, he’s with a patient. Do you…” I think she’s going to ask me if I have an appointment but since it’s obvious I don’t have a vagina, why would I? Fairweather is a gynecologist.
I raise my eyebrows and she clears her throat.
“Where is he?”
“Room 1.” She points down a hall, where I can see four doors. Two are numbered, one has Fairweather’s name on it and the other, the only one without a door, looks to be a nurse’s station. “But he’s with a patient. You can’t go in.”
“You’re going to need to cancel his other appointments,” I tell her after a glance at the waiting women. “Probably for the week. I’ll wait in his office. Is there another exit?” I ask as the women who were seated quietly get to their feet and head toward the door without having to be asked.
“Through there.” She points.
I gesture to the soldier to go to that exit. “Pack up. Day’s over,” I tell the woman.
Val hovers in the waiting area as the receptionist gets ready to leave. I walk into the doctor’s office and have a look around. It’s my second time here. I met with him regarding Madelena’s birth control. It’s a nice office with decent furnishings, clean and orderly. He does well for himself and lives with his wife in a McMansion but doesn’t serve the elite of the town. It’s why I’d chosen him, thinking it was my safest bet for privacy.
I take off my jacket and walk behind Fairweather’s desk to read the diplomas hanging there. He’d graduated with honors from a prestigious university. Good for him.
Draping my jacket over the back of a chair, I go to the window to take in the parking lot as I roll up my shirt sleeves.
Movement in the hallway alerts me that the good doctor is finished with his exam. I hear a woman’s voice, a door closing, then someone stumbling. A moment later, the office door opens, and Val gives Fairweather a shove inside. Val follows him in, closes the door and stands with his arms folded across his chest at the exit.
Fairweather pales when he sees me and sends a panicked glance behind himself, then faces me again.
“Mr. Augustine. I didn’t expect to see you.” He tries for a faltering smile.
“No, I guess you didn’t. Lucky you, two Augustines in one day. My mother was here earlier.”
“Oh. Yes. She’s, uh, a new patient.”
“Is she?”
He swallows, holds onto the back of one of the chairs set in front of his desk.
“What did you inject my wife with?”
He opens his mouth, stutters. I go to him, grab him by the back of his head, and push him into a seat. I tug on his hair to pull his head back, so he looks up at me.