Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 137176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
The comment did what I’d intended it to do, even though I had no idea why I was making the effort considering the circumstances.
It had been meant to make Sully smile, which he may or may not have done since his mouth only moved for a split second.
“Have you talked to your—?” Sully asked after a few moments.
“No,” I said simply.
I waited for Sully to ask me why I hadn’t been in contact with my family from the moment they’d hired the attorney who’d gotten me out of prison on a technicality.
The question never made it from Sully’s lips because the sound of approaching footsteps had me instinctively reaching for the gun at my back and pointing it at the door. What if something had changed in my case and the cops were coming to take me back to prison? Would I let them take me back? If not, how would I stop it? The weight of the weapon in my hand held the answer.
You’ll never see him again.
The taunting voice that occasionally managed to push through my defenses was a cruel distraction, and yet its reminder of what I’d truly be giving up if I chose to let the cops take me out in a hail of bullets was enough to sway me. It didn’t matter that the chances of seeing him again were slim to none. Thankfully, it wasn’t the SWAT team I was expecting. No, the young man who appeared in the doorway couldn’t have looked less like a cop if he’d tried.
He was tall as a reed and nearly as thin as one too.
“Mr. Ferguson, sir, I came in early to—” the guy began before he saw me. The kid, who barely looked legal and had probably been stuffed into every school locker he’d ever had the misfortune of standing next to, froze and dropped the papers in his hand.
Sully was already stepping between me and the kid before I even had a chance to lower the gun. My heart felt like it was going to beat right out of my chest, and it was all I could do not to puke up the shitty diner food on the floor of Sully’s office. I didn’t need to wait to hear Sully’s command or plea or whatever to put the weapon away. I was so caught off guard by my own behavior that I barely paid attention to anything else.
Despite what all of California and the rest of the country believed, I didn’t kill innocent people. Hell, the only time I’d taken lives had been while I’d been a Marine.
“You okay, Mikey?” I heard Sully ask, his voice uncharacteristically soft.
“I’m fine, Mr. Ferguson,” the young man responded crisply.
I’d caught enough of my own breath to turn around just in time to see the kid kneeling to collect the papers that had fallen. Sully knelt too. I could hear the pair speaking but couldn’t make out the words. One of the pieces of paper was closer to me than them, so I picked it up. Once Mikey had collected the papers, he steadily walked up to Sully’s desk and carefully laid out the papers into three perfect stacks. He began reorganizing the pages.
“Sorry,” I began, but the kid waved me off.
“It’s fine,” he murmured. His back was stiff as a board and his jaw twitched now and again, but he didn’t try to steer clear of me or ask any questions. He was pretty damn calm for someone who’d just had a gun pointed at him.
“I know better than to enter a room without making myself known.” The young man’s refined way of speaking took me by surprise. His voice was even, and there were no tears, no shaking hands. Other than the moment when he’d dropped the papers, he behaved as if nothing had happened.
“You sure you’re okay, Mikey?” Sully asked from the doorway. He actually sounded… concerned?
To my surprise, I heard Mikey whisper under his breath, “Michael,” before he covered whatever he’d really been feeling with the widest, fakest smile I’d ever seen.
“Fine, Mr. Ferguson. I apologize for interrupting your meeting. May I get your guest any coffee?” he asked as he turned around and dropped his arms to his side.
For a few brief seconds, my presence seemed to have been forgotten because both men stared at each other. Sully with that determined “I’m going to figure out all your secrets” look and Mikey—nay, Michael—defiantly daring the man to try. Electricity crackled between them.
Interesting.
Since it felt like I was eavesdropping on something, I glanced at the paper I’d picked up off the floor. The bottom of my stomach dropped out when I saw the name at the top of what looked to be an invoice.
What the fuck?
“What is this?” I asked in disbelief as I held the paper up. I hadn’t noticed Mikey leave, but it probably wouldn’t have mattered if he’d still been in the room.