Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 145634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 728(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 728(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
At least I do.
But maybe he doesn’t. Maybe last night didn’t mean much to him at all. I cross my arms and try not to think like that.
As I start making my way to the kitchen, I hear Sandra giggling, followed by Tony’s voice.
She’s frying eggs on the stove, while Tony stands next to her scratching his ass. “You're so gross!” Sandra says, laughing. Tony slaps her ass, resulting in even more giggling. At least Sandra seems happy. She deserves to be. I’ve never seen her like this, bubbly and at ease with a guy.
“Good morning,” I say hoping it’s not awkward that I’m interrupting them and opening the cabinet to pull out a box of Corn Pops. It's my favorite cereal. Sandra always stocks up on it when I come to visit.
“Good morning,” Sandra says as Tony kisses her neck and thankfully backs away to take a seat at the small table.
“Morning,” he says, stretching his back with his arms over his head. You’d think he lived here, too. Shit, maybe he does. Maybe this last week she’s kept him away to give me space.
I close the cabinet and try not to think about it as I chew on the inside of my cheek.
“Is Derek here?” Sandra asks me with a ridiculous Cheshire grin on her face. She's way too excited this morning.
“No, he left last night,” I tell her, ignoring the urge to try to pick apart everything that happened and over analyze why I’m here alone this morning. It’s simple. He didn’t want to stay, so he didn’t. That’s all it means. Or at least that’s what I tell myself over and over again as I put the milk away and sit down at the table.
Tony sits down across from me with the fried eggs and toast Sandra just made him.
“Oh, so he didn’t stay with you?” she asks turning to face me with a look of confusion.
I shake my head no, shoving the spoon in my mouth and eating a bite of cereal. “Why are you asking?” I ask stirring the pops with my spoon.
She shrugs before turning back to her omelet on the stove.
I shake my head and take another mouthful of my cereal. The room is mostly quiet except for the clinking of the spoon against the ceramic bowl, the sounds of the eggs cooking on the stove, and the gentle scraping of the spatula. Tony’s on his phone, and I keep staring at him.
He knows Derek.…I shove another spoonful into my mouth to keep from prying, but I can't help myself once he's off the phone.
“So, Tony, you're good friends with Derek?” I ask.
“Yeah, we've been friends for a real long time.” he sets his phone down to give me his full attention. “We grew up next door to each other. I was always over his house,” he answers me.
“Oh, really?” I didn't know he grew up with Derek. My skin tingles with anxiety. I wonder if he knows about us. I never saw him back then. I never saw anyone. More than a few times I went to Derek's house, but I was quiet and discreet. I always waited in the back, just like he told me to.
Neither of us wanted anyone to know.
I bite the inside of my cheek rather than snooping anymore. I need his number though. Or something. I need to get ahold of him, but asking his friend when Derek could’ve left it for me just seems desperate. Sandra sits down next to me with her egg whites and three strips of bacon. It smells too good. I snag one of the three pieces, and she playfully acts like she’s going to stab me with her fork.
Tony takes the opportunity to grab a piece for himself while she’s distracted with me, and I practically snort when she sees. Her mouth drops open in shock. Like he truly betrayed her for stealing a strip of bacon.
I lick my fingers as she takes her last and only piece and mutters, “Vultures.”
Tony hands her back half of his stolen strip, and she snags it like he’s gonna rip it away from her if she doesn’t take it right then.
I have to admit, they’re so stinking cute together.
Wanting to know more about the guy that's making my sister so happy, I ask Tony, “What do you do for a living?”
“I work with Derek,” he says easily.
“What does he do?” I ask him, mostly because Derek’s answer was so short and vague last night.
“He has a business. A bunch of ‘em. He kinda runs the town.”
He runs the town? What the fuck does that mean? I wait for Tony to say more, but he just continues eating his breakfast.
My skin tingles with anxiety. He can’t still be dealing drugs. Derek was so much smarter than that. The thought makes my stomach flip.