Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 37200 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 186(@200wpm)___ 149(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37200 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 186(@200wpm)___ 149(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
“That look, get it out of your head now. Nothing is wrong with us. We are rock fucking solid. We’re not ever going down that path again. We’re in this forever. I get you’re going to have doubts. I put those there, and I’ll work my hardest to erase that shit. This is about something else entirely, okay?” I look at his face, really see him. My shit is affecting him. The way I’ve been in my own freaking head, worrying about myself and basically blocking off the entire world. I haven’t even called my grandma or Vanessa. I’m a total shit head. I’ll have to do that after Ezra and I talk.
“I know we are. I just had a moment. The way you met me at the door, telling me we have to talk. It does things to a woman who’s so in love with the man in front of her that it aches to even think about no longer having you in my life. Thank you, Ezra. You’ve done so much, have showed me nothing but an abundance of patience, and I’m sorry for doubting us.” This has been one hell of a day, week, month—months really—that it’s all starting to bleed together.
“You’ve got nothing to be sorry about. I really do need to let you know about something before it’s broadcasted on the news, though, okay?” He clasps the side of my neck, our eyes locked on one another.
“Okay, but on a scale of bad news, is this a one glass of wine or the whole bottle?” Ezra’s hand slides from its place on the side of my face down to my shoulder, squeezing it in a way to bring me comfort before moving down the length of my arm until he reaches my hand, taking it in his, and then were walking further into the house. I take a deep breath, preparing for the worst but hoping for the best. My mind is going in every which direction while my eyes are gazing around the whole of Ezra’s place. Vanessa was right. These brothers are a lot alike, especially in the decorating department. The basics are laid down—the furniture, area rugs, the necessities. But there’s not a whole lot in the way of color or decorations, not even in a throw pillow on his couch. My plant is literally the only thing that isn’t the shade white, beige, or black. When I move in, my things will mingle with his, co-existing together. Tomorrow, I’m going to make it my priority to call Perry and ask all the questions.
“Alright, let me tell you what’s going on. Then I’ll grab the bottle of wine and the phone out of your bag,” Ezra tells me as we sit on the couch, close enough that our knees are touching, facing one another.
“Okay.” I wait to hear what he has to say with a worry deep in my soul.
“Blake did some more digging. Detective Johnson is treating this as a missing persons investigation. Blake knew in his gut something didn’t sit right, a sixth sense he’s always had. It seems Scotty boy has a little problem with spending as well as liking to indulge a little too much in the illegal variety of a certain drug. He’s pulling bank records for all of them and has someone on Scott at all times. The other loophole Blake figured out was that Bonnie and Chad’s life insurance policy, if they ever come up missing for longer than a period of time, will default the money to him. The way things are turning out, it’s not looking too good. Add in the fact that your timeline matches up, something isn’t sitting right. Blake can’t tell the detective all he’s found because it’s not by the cuff. What he is doing is feeding it to a media source that will make them look harder and push deeper while his eyes are on Scott.” I blink my eyes rapidly, trying to digest what I think Ezra is saying. It’s hard to believe, let alone fathom. I mean, sure, Scott was a little, well, different, aloof maybe, but this is not what I expected at all.
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying? That Scott made them disappear?” I gulp back a breath of air, unable to get the words out. They’re too cruel to say out loud.
“I am.” Ezra turns watery, as I’m unable to hold back the emotion. I’ve known Bonnie and Chad forever. They helped me become the person I am today, to figure out what I wanted out of life when I was floundering. They gave me a purpose in the form of a job, molding me into the hard-working person I am now, and I can’t believe they could potentially not be around anymore. A sob works its way up my throat. Ezra doesn’t let me fall apart alone. I’m engulfed in his arms, head in the crook of his neck, tears streaming down my face, coating my cheeks, ruining another one of Ezra’s shirts, but he doesn’t care.