Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“So he went in the Army while you finished up your last year in school?” She nods at my accurate deduction.
Now that is a dedication to the cause, especially if neither one of them would date other people to keep the lie going.
“He didn’t feel like he could come out. Not in this disapproving town anyways.” She shrugs as if agreeing to marry someone and not having any other type of physical relationship was no big deal. “We were best friends already. We spent every waking hour together. It seemed like a perfect plan, but then…” Her voice trails off breaking at the end, betraying her sadness.
“It didn’t work out,” I finish for her. My heart breaks as I watch her swipe away a few tears from her face.
“Sometimes I wonder if he died because of our lie. Like we somehow set things into motion that the universe couldn’t let happen.” She looks me straight in the eyes for an answer I don’t have to give.
“Sweet Girl,” I say reaching across the table and offering her my hands. “That’s not how war works. This isn’t your fault; it’s not his fault either.” She smiles, but the soft tears keep falling. “I’d take every ounce of your pain if I could.”
“That’s a lot of pain,” she says after a long moment. “I wouldn’t wish this on anyone.”
***
“I hate even having to do this,” I mutter as we drive down the pothole-riddled road.
“Yeah,” Snatch says from the passenger seat of the truck. “I wouldn’t want to be stuck dealing with that chick either. Hot enough to tempt the devil himself.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.” I take a quick glance at him trying to determine if he’s somehow got his sights set on Khloe. I don’t want trouble to start with a brother from the club, but I won’t tolerate one of the guys even looking at her like she’s some club whore.
He chuckles.
“I mean I hate having to go to this soldier’s house to try to get her things. I can’t imagine what his family is going through.” I turn my gaze back to the road, having found no hint of lustful thoughts of Khloe on his face. “I feel like an asshole.”
“They should understand, man.” That’s all he offers, but I know families that have lost a loved one aren’t always rational.
Khloe told me earlier that they gave her a day to get out of Alec’s apartment. She didn’t say as much, but I know that part of her wanting to end her life had to do with knowing she had nowhere to go. That was set into motion with Alec’s parents’ insistence that she not be there when they returned the following day. Loss of a child or not, I think it’s pretty fucked up.
We pull up outside of a modest brick home. I verify the address I got from Shadow. We’re in the right place.
“You want me to go with you?” Snatch asks from beside me.
“Naw, brother. I may need help getting her things if they still have them, but I can handle knocking on the door. I’m not trying to get shot.”
He laughs because he knows exactly what I’m talking about. Excluding his face, Snatch is covered head to toe in tattoos. Large gauged holes are through both ears big enough I could drive a matchbox car through. He’s a great guy, but his appearance turns away even the hardest thugs some days. I don’t want to intimidate Alec’s parents; I just want them to give me Khloe’s things.
I make my way up the sidewalk and knock on the door firmly.
The door opens a crack, but the chain at the top prevents it from opening all the way.
“Can I help you?” a woman asks with a heavy Spanish accent.
“Hi, Mrs. Sanchez. I’m Dustin Andrews.”
“My husband is not home.” I see her eyes sweep over me, and then she shuts the door in my face.
I raise my hand to knock again, growing frustrated at her rudeness. The door is pulled open again. Only this time the chain has been pulled off.
“You’re with that group of lovely men that held the BBQ for my Alec,” she says pointing at my leather cut.
“Yes, ma’am.” I smile because this looks like it may go better than I’d originally planned for. “I’m sorry for your loss.” Shitty words I know, but what else do you say at a time like this?
“Thank you,” she says wringing her hands together. “What brings you by today?”
“It’s my understanding that Khloe Devaro was living in the apartment with Alec.” She darts her eyes up to me.
“Yes, that’s correct. I heard she hurt herself to get attention at the memorial. Who does that?” I can see her hackles are rising, and that isn’t going to help anyone.
I bite my tongue to keep from asking her how someone could pretty much throw a young woman out on the street after the death of her friend.