Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 33081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 165(@200wpm)___ 132(@250wpm)___ 110(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 165(@200wpm)___ 132(@250wpm)___ 110(@300wpm)
Nigel put his hands to his face and groaned. Another wave of sickness came over him and Gabriel nudged the bucket toward him. Nigel rolled over and spewed into the bowl. The two nurses came rushing in, attending to him, and Gabriel sat in the corner of the room, waiting.
“Fuck me. Why don’t you just kill me?”
“And have your sister go and identify your dead body? Please.”
“Have you talked to her?”
“I’m dealing with your sister,” he said.
Nigel looked at him and for a second, he seemed completely sober. The pale skin, red eyes, and general look of shit gave the game away.
“Please, don’t hurt her.”
“I have no intention of hurting your sister.” Gabriel leaned closer. “Tell me what she likes.”
Nigel groaned. “What?”
“Tell me about your sister.”
Everything he knew were the cold hard facts that could be discovered through different means like her medical records, school records, even her work records.
“I don’t know what you want to know, man.”
“What makes her tick?”
Nigel groaned again.
There was no point in threatening him. He was already in a great deal of pain.
“I don’t know, man. She’s a woman. She loves clothes and shoes. She fucking loves shoes, but she never buys them.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t fucking know. They’re frivolous. She never celebrated her birthday after Mom and Dad died. I’d make her a card and some shit, but she refused to eat cake. Mom always made her a cake, and I couldn’t bake, and she’d never eat anything shop-bought. She has these weird rules. Anything Mom made from scratch, Faith refuses to buy. Cake and cookies, she will never buy them out of a packet, and she also doesn’t bake them either, even though she can bake.” Nigel stopped and let out a cough. “She used to love going out for long walks. She would love to own a dog or a cat, but she is allergic, and I mean, big time allergic. Her eyes puff up, and she can’t see. She looks kind of gross when she’s around them. I know she hates that, so she donates shit to the local animal shelters. Or, she got me to, because just being near them sent her allergies into haywire.”
Gabriel smiled. He couldn’t help it.
“There’s not a lot to tell. She works a lot. She loves clothes, and trying to make that woman’s business thrive. She does a shit ton of research for her, and she has sketches of her own ideas as well. Her drawings are shit, but she tries. She always wanted to have a big family as well.” Nigel groaned. “Oh, and she loves holidays, even after our parents died, she still tried to do what they did. Candy for Halloween. Thanksgiving turkey. Christmas hot chocolate. That kind of stuff.”
“You had one heck of a family.”
“We did. Faith … she deserves a better brother than me.” Nigel ended that with another vomit, and Gabriel was done.
He got to the door as the nurses were about to enter, but he stopped them and turned toward Nigel.
“You can’t be that bad of a brother, Nigel. Yes, you’ve made mistakes and you’ve done a lot of shitty things, but before you took it to the next level, you got help. That has to account for something.” With that, he left the cabin and made his way to his car.
He checked his cell phone and saw the flowers had been delivered to Faith at her work. This time, they hadn’t been rejected, but he’d not signed them anonymously. He’d put his name to them.
She accepted them. He made a note in the back of his mind to ask her about the other flowers.
Heading back to the city, he didn’t go to any of his businesses, instead, he took a detour to Faith’s home. Nigel had already given him the spare key. On one of the days that Faith had been out, Gabriel already had cameras installed so he could keep an eye on her. Now as he entered her home, he got the scent of lemon. He had watched her a few times as she cleaned her home.
Her ass was always tempting to him as she stuck it up in the air. He lost count of the number of times he wanted to touch her, explore her body. Now she was his, he got to do so at his leisure.
One month wasn’t going to be enough. He had one month to knock her up. That was his plan now—get her pregnant and keep her all to himself.
Stepping into the main sitting room, he walked up to the mantle and admired the pictures of Faith with her parents and with Nigel. They’d been a happy family. He saw that. There was nothing fake. Some of the pictures had clearly been taken as if they were at a selfie angle. Tongues were stuck out. Goofy expressions on their faces. It was a shame.