Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
There’s one thing I can do while standing around, feeling like an asshole. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a really good cup of coffee—it doesn’t look like the coffee maker gets a lot of use around here, but the coffee itself isn’t some cheap-ass brand, so I’m glad to brew some. By the time Colt joins me in the kitchen, the aroma fills the air.
“That smells good. Leni’s in the shower, but you can go wash up as soon as she’s finished,” he offers, raking his fingers through his wet hair.
Is it wrong that I don’t want to? I like having her scent on me even more than I like smelling the familiar aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Of course, I doubt her boyfriend would like hearing something like that, so I keep my thoughts to myself. “Sounds good. Are we… okay, after what just happened?”
At first, it looks like he doesn’t want to answer, and that can’t be a good sign. I can see him being into it in the moment. When most of your blood is in your cock, you can’t do a lot of thinking. But he probably feels differently now.
He glances down the hall toward the bathroom where Leni is showering, then shakes his head. “Later.”
So, it’s going to be a complicated conversation. Now I wish I hadn’t asked.
It’s easier—and probably safer—to pour some coffee and sit down at the table. I need the caffeine; sleep wasn’t easy to come by last night. Not like I was wracked with guilt or anything like that, but the whole situation was strange. I’ve gotten used to being alone. Going from learning how to sleep through fights next door and a baby crying upstairs to trying to sleep in a silent apartment was awkward.
Colt turns the chair across from mine backward and straddles it, setting his cup on the table. “I have to admit, I never saw us doing this again.”
Looking across the table at my brother brings hundreds of mornings to mind. Having breakfast together the way we did so many things together. Most of the time, we ate without saying a word. We didn’t need to talk. We understood each other.
Besides, what the hell is there for kids to talk about? Retirement accounts? The weather? The thought makes me snicker before taking a gulp of my coffee. “Neither did I,” I admit.
“I mean, I knew you were alive.”
“I can’t tell whether you’re gloating or what when you keep saying that.”
“I’m not gloating.” When I narrow my eyes, he rolls his. “Okay, I might be gloating a little bit. But I think I deserve it. I’m the only one who believed you were alive when no one else did.”
“The whole point was for nobody to know.”
“They don’t know you like I do. I knew you would make it out of there in time.”
“I almost didn’t,” I remind him in a quiet voice.
“Well, there was Bradley’s disappearance, too,” he admits, looking down into his mug. “It seemed like too big a coincidence to really be a coincidence, if you know what I mean. I knew there had to be something else going on.”
“Maybe you just didn’t want to believe it,” I point out. “That would be okay, too.”
“Anyway, it’s a waste of time to talk about it because here you are.”
“Yeah, and I just made both your lives a lot more complicated. No, let me say this,” I insist when it’s obvious he wants to cut me off. “I’ve done a lot of awful shit in my life, but dragging you two into the mess I made would be the worst. You know I’m right.”
“Don’t tell me what I know.”
“And stop being so fucking stubborn,” I mutter. “Nothing pisses me off more than when you act like you don’t see what’s in front of you. This is reality. I killed two people, and a third one is in my grave. I killed another two people last night,” I continue. That one, he can’t help but wince at. That one, he witnessed. “You don’t need this. Leni sure as hell doesn’t. She’s been through enough.”
“So, what? You’re going to be the big hero now? Sacrificing yourself for everybody?”
“I didn’t say that. Walking into the police station isn’t in my plans.” Looking down at the mug, I spin it in place on the table. “I’m not turning myself in, so don’t worry about that. But they could track me somehow—you know they could.”
“Not if you’re careful.”
“So, what do you think I’m going to do? Stay locked in this apartment day in, day out, for the rest of my life? Because that’s the only way I could stay here and not risk getting discovered and traced back to you.”
“Last night, you said you live in a pit.” Dammit, now he decides he’s going to listen to me and remember the shit I say. “Why would you decide to go back there if you don’t have to?”