Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
But that’s not what I should focus on, because the guy is a murderer. Even if he were the perfect boyfriend, caring, kind, and selfless, do I want to get involved with someone who might end up tracked down and arrested? People would be asking me ‘how could you have not seen it?’ and I would have to make the most innocent face while holding Nico’s secrets close to my chest. Then, I’d spend the rest of my life visiting him in prison, or worse—
Does our state have the death penalty?
My hands start to shake as I reach for my phone, but it’s only a moment of weakness that I quickly overcome. I might not officially be a suspect, but as the person who’s gained most from Carl’s death, I can’t do anything that might make the cops doubt me. On my podcast, I’ve reported about way too many crimes where the perpetrator ended up being caught because of their internet history to make such a rookie mistake myself.
I snap out of my nervous thoughts when a hand reaches toward me.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” says a middle-aged man whom I’ve never seen in my life.
We’re in the same room where Carl hosted the strip show not that long ago, and I find it oddly fitting. Even Grandmom’s portrait seems to smile at me through the open door leading into the hallway. I never got to meet her, but I hope she’s proud of me.
I exchange a few meaningless lies about my brother being a kind-hearted guy who valued family above all else, and once the man leaves me alone, I sip my coffee and take in the room full of strangers. I do know a handful of Carl’s acquaintances and friends, but they’re few and far between in the stream of bodies in mourning garb flooding my—my—smoking room.
I feel unprepared for managing the vast amount of wealth our family has accumulated over the years, but I’m no longer a child and will get on with the program at the start of the new year. For now, I’ll pretend to mourn a brother whom I decided to bury in Aspen rather than close to where I live, just so I can always stay far away from his ashes.
The official explanation for this move is Carl’s love for mountains and snowboarding. I'm so full of shit I would make a fantastic PR executive. Maybe he and I shared a comparable talent for lying, because after hanging on to his fake love all my life, I found out that not only had Carl not informed the cops I was missing, but also offered time off to all the staff at my home, so no one questioned my absence.
Joke’s on him.
The burlesque dancer was someone he’d met that night, not a girlfriend, so we both commiserated about the masked stranger with dark hair (I made sure to say that several times to implant the fake memory) who might have been the one to hurt my brother. I played the perfectly innocent, inexperienced gay man who got charmed into following the lead of a handsome monster. But maybe that’s who I really am, since I’m protecting Nico even now.
The somber atmosphere, the parade of guests I don’t know, and the endless stream of bite-sized snacks on silver platters is getting all too much, so I walk out of the room and onto a balcony.
From my vantage point, the expanse of the snow covered-forest seems endless, and it reminds me of that week in Nico’s cabin. The conditions there were so far from what I was used to, but even though I had to use a crappy eco-shower, wash dishes, and sweep the floor, I felt I had everything I could ever want when Nico smiled at me. And when he held me at night, the sense of loneliness that accompanied me since my parents died was gone.
I was so… content with everything that the perspective of going back home later tonight and being greeted by empty rooms rather than Nico’s touch is borderline painful. But what’s the alternative? Willingly flying straight into the web of a guy who enjoys killing?
For a moment, I consider looking for love on dating apps, but how could that compare to the way Nico saved me from rape, torture, and murder, then slowly got under my skin with attention and enthusiasm? Maybe that’s what it feels like when a spider crawls into one’s ear at night? Yeah, no, bad comparison, ew.
Nico’s presence felt good, and when I stopped being fearful of him, I craved for him to consume me, until I belonged to him wholly, body and soul.
I shiver, imagining him watching me now from one of the trees close by, and I can’t even describe the sense of peace this gives me. It’s the relief I need during a party filled with strangers Carl never bothered to introduce me to.