Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
All I know is I don’t want to be around people—not these people, at least. They're way too wholesome to be part of the depraved plans I’m marinating in my mind.
I open the door of my brother’s old, beat-up car. This car used to be Dad’s until he died, at which point it was handed down to Peter. And now, I guess it’s mine.
After the divorce, Dad had just enough money to keep the animal clinic running and buy this piece of junk. Dad could’ve said “no” to house calls and gone without a car, but he was the kind of guy who’d rather sleep in the clinic before doing that, so that was exactly what he did.
There were always plenty of farm animals in Ashbourne that wouldn't even fit inside our clinic, but it was roomy enough for the three of us—Dad, Peter, and me—to live upstairs.
As my butt hits the driver’s seat, the smell of burned nicotine fills my nostrils. This stupid car smells like Peter.
I pull on the door handle, but it won’t budge. As I lift my gaze up, I realize Luca’s got his hand on it.
“Sorry,” he says in a hair-raisingly familiar voice—deep, calm, peaceful. “I called your name, but you didn’t hear me.”
“Oh, I didn't hear anything. Sorry. There was just too much going on,” I say.
It’s a lie, of course. I had my eyes on him, and I definitely heard him. I just didn’t think I could handle talking to him.
Now that he’s here, though, I don’t have a choice. I have to entertain him for a few minutes, at least.
“You’re really hard to get ahold of. I called the clinic a few times too, but nobody picked up,” Luca says.
To people who don’t know him, it may sound like a rebuke. But knowing Luca, I know this is just a statement of fact.
“We were closed,” I say. I stop myself from adding obviously.
“Yeah, I wasn’t . . . ” Luca’s eyelids lower as rain rolls down his head past his dark eyebrows and into his eyes. He slicks his rain-soaked hair back with his fingers. “I wasn’t expecting it to be open. I just wanted to talk to you.”
When Luca opens his eyes again, I see something I dread in them. He needs companionship, someone to share his grief with, and he thinks that person could be me.
He can’t be more wrong.
“Well, I’m here now.” I give him a polite smile as I let him stand in the rain, fully aware of the mixed messages I’m sending.
“How are you holding up?” Luca asks.
“I’ve had better days,” I say vaguely.
I don’t like crying in front of people, and I’ve already done that during the funeral, thanks to Luca. I’m not about to do an encore now, not with someone I haven’t even heard from in five years.
“You’re staying at the clinic?” he asks again, seemingly unaware that I’m not interested in having this conversation, no matter how hot he looks up close.
Standing right outside the car, his abs are pretty much at my eye level. Thanks to his wet shirt, I can see every line and every groove. He’s all lean mass and hard muscles. He’s always been a runner, and it shows.
“Yeah, it’s not like I have any other place to stay.” I smile wryly. “It’s still better than living with my mom.”
“You can stay at my place,” Luca says as water drips from his hair down to the ground, joining the other raindrops. “I mean, that clinic is no home.”
“Well, it was home for Peter, and for my dad before that. And seeing as I’ll be working there as well, the commute happens to be great. Very convenient location.”
“You can still make a joke. That’s a good sign.” Luca chuckles softly, although there’s no humor in his eyes. “That place is not safe for a young girl like you, though, especially since you’re on your own.”
I don’t have the heart to tell him that maybe I like the fact that it’s not the safest place in the world. I know I’m being too self-destructive for my own good right now. But the last thing I need is for Luca to limit my movements and make me feel even worse.
“Honestly, thanks for the offer, but I’ll be fine,” I say, in an attempt to stop him from asking more questions. Above all, what I need is solitude and the freedom to do whatever the hell I feel like doing.
“I’d argue that you’ve been gone for so long you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, but I know you’ll disagree.”
“Damn right I will,” I say with a cordial smile.
I don’t want this conversation to drag on, but it’s been a while since I talked to someone who knows me.
It’s exciting. Terrifying. It’s a thrill, especially because I’m trying to hide my plans from him. Maybe the destructive thing within me wants to be found out, after all.