Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 72308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
“Men don’t usually keep the same woman for long unless there’s more to it.”
“She asked me.”
“What?”
“She asked me to be her full-time client.”
I’d never heard of that before. “Then she really is into you.”
“Or she prefers me to the other guys. Can’t say I blame her.”
“Are you not really into her?”
He looked at me with dead eyes, like this conversation was deeply annoying.
“Based on the way you talk about her, I think you are. So instead of paying her to be your whore, why don’t you ask her to move in and make her something more?” He hadn’t wasted any time with me. Within a month, I was the woman of his house, and we lived a domestic life as man and woman.
“That’s never going to happen.”
“Why not?”
“She’s got kids.”
“So? You said you wanted to have a family.”
“I wanted a family with you. Our own kids. Raised from birth. I’m not going to be a stepfather. Fuck that.”
“Oh…”
“Are we done with this heart-to-heart now?” he asked in a bored voice. “Because I have shit to do.”
“On Christmas?”
“I don’t care what day it is.”
We went back to eating in silence, our utensils scratching the plate, the darkness outside the windows pressing into the glass. His eyes remained down most of the time, like he was eating alone.
I felt alone. Wasn’t sure how I ended up here, sitting across from Grave, in a strange form of friendship.
My phone started to vibrate on the table.
The name popped up on the screen.
The phone slowly turned every time it rang, the vibration making it spin clockwise. It kept turning slowly before it stopped and repeated.
“You going to answer that or what?”
I was in too much shock to do anything but stare. Finally, the vibration stopped. Adrenaline was deep in my body like I was about to run for my life. I’d felt so numb these last few weeks that it was the first time I actually felt alive again.
The screen lit up with a voice mail.
I hadn’t expected him to leave me a message.
Grave must have read the screen because he said, “Listen to it.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
“Might be important.”
“I doubt it.”
He grabbed the phone and played the message on speaker.
There was a long pause because Cauldron’s quiet voice interrupted the silence. “Merry Christmas.” Silence continued, but based on the slight noise in the background, I knew he was still there. “I’m sorry for everything.”
All I had in my apartment was an air mattress and the things I’d taken from Cauldron’s. But the heat was on, and so was the electricity. Grave gave me all the info for that job at the gallery, but I never showed up to the interview.
I lay on the mattress and stared at my phone, seeing Elise’s name on the screen. I hadn’t moved in hours, contemplating the call. After I listened to Cauldron’s voice mail, I deleted it because I knew I wouldn’t stop listening to it if I didn’t.
A text popped up on the screen. Not from Grave. Not from anyone else I knew.
But from him. Tell me you’re alright.
I’d been gone for over two weeks now. He’d kicked me out without hesitation. Let me walk out of there without saying goodbye. Didn’t ask how I was doing when I was at my lowest. The only person who was there for me was his brother…who used to be my greatest enemy.
I didn’t answer him.
An hour later, he texted me again. Please.
I have an apartment in the city. Got a job. I’m fine.
He didn’t say anything for a while. Good.
There was so much I wanted to say. That I wasn’t fine two weeks ago. That I’d lost several pounds in my depression. That I was worse off than I’d ever been. That I wished I’d stayed with Grave and never met Cauldron. But I didn’t. Don’t contact me again.
His messages stopped.
It hurt that they stopped. It hurt that he listened. He had no idea how much one single text message killed me. All he wanted to do was ease his own conscience, make himself feel better, and he didn’t give a damn that he made me feel worse in the process.
I called Elise.
After a couple rings, she answered. “Hello?” The sound of voices was in the background, like her kids were in the room.
“Hey, Elise. It’s Camille…Cauldron’s girlfriend. I mean…ex-girlfriend.”
She took a long pause. “Uh, hi. Why are you calling me?”
“I was kinda wondering if you could get me a job…”
We met up at a café, and she sat across from me in her athleisure like she intended to hit the gym after our conversation. Even without makeup, she could turn heads with that shiny hair and hard body. “I’m just a little confused. You know what I do for a living, right?”
“Yes. But you’re top tier. Premium status. I want in.”