Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 112917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
I nodded and looked away so I wouldn’t have to see his disappointment in me. Instead of watching his slender body as he stepped back onto the trail, I looked around us to make sure the area was clear of any looming threats. Considering this was an isolated, fenced property, monitored by boundary cameras and round-the-clock guards, it wasn’t completely necessary. But at least it gave me something to look at while I berated myself soundly.
We moved down the trail in silence, only the soft sounds of our footfalls breaking the awkward tension in the air. As soon as we got back to the house, Zane disappeared into his bedroom, and I busied myself with work on my laptop.
Eventually, hunger drove the man out of his bedroom. Lou had delivered pizza from a local restaurant and ended up staying to eat with us. There was plenty to talk about since we now had the JK debacle to deal with.
“According to Micki, the PR team has your cousin well in hand. The social media post has been removed. The team helped him make an additional post about how a friend dared him to post something ridiculous to see how many likes he could get and that thanks to ‘all y’all,’ he was one case of beer richer,” Lou explained.
Zane nodded half-heartedly. I could tell from his hunched-over posture and the way he was picking at one of his favorite foods he wasn’t as reassured as Lou had hoped.
“He needs to be banned from Zane’s future visits home,” I grumbled.
I felt the heat of Zane’s anger on me as he spoke. “Easy for you to say when you have parents, a sister, two brothers, and four niblings back in Montana you can visit anytime. And let’s not even get started on all the extended Galloway and Hager families.”
I glanced at him in surprise. For the sake of professionalism, I tried not to share too much of my personal life. Zane knew my background, of course, but I’d had no idea he’d kept track of the details so well.
“Sorry,” I murmured.
He let out a huff. “Yeah. You’re good at sorries.”
I stared at him in time to see his cheeks flame. He buried his chin in his hoodie and kept his eyes on his plate. Lou shot me a questioning look, but I shook my head in dismissal. There was no way I could explain why our principal was angry at me without opening up a whole can of worms.
Lou cleared her throat and tried to dispel the tension she couldn’t have understood. “Niblings?” she asked.
“Nieces and nephews,” Zane muttered to his plate.
The rest of the evening was just as excruciating. As soon as politely possible, Zane disappeared into his room again. Lou asked me what was going on, but I fudged and said he was upset by the JK thing… which wasn’t exactly a lie. Zane was upset about that and should be.
But his cousin wasn’t the only one who’d taken advantage of him that day.
As soon as Lou disappeared back to the gatehouse, I closed my computer and locked up the main house. I lingered in the main gathering room of the house in hopes Zane would reappear, but he never did.
The following day, after grabbing coffee and a premade smoothie, he disappeared back into the sunroom to work on his music. I might have followed him if I didn’t already have at least three urgent messages from Violet requiring my attention.
I hopped on a Zoom call with the European logistics team that lasted most of the morning. I passed on the information Zane had given me about Bodhi—that he had been in the crowd at Shaky Knees, that he knew Zane’s private email address, and that he was conveniently playing gigs in Dublin and planned to meet up with Zane in Amsterdam. Violet agreed that he was our strongest suspect to date and tasked Boomer with finding and shadowing Bodhi. He agreed enthusiastically. “Trust me, boss. If that guy is the one messing with Zee he’s gonna be sorry.”
At least that one aspect of my day was going right.
At noon, Lou came into the house to spell me so I could take a long run on the roads. I needed some air. Some space. Some time to fucking think. My whole life, I’d leaned toward physicality. Whenever I was angry or frustrated or confused, I’d go outside and work it out by moving or pushing my body until all I could do was feel and not think.
It was how I’d become good at sports, how I’d ended up with the kind of discipline, strength, and focus to become an Olympic athlete.
Even now, when most of my time at work was spent standing or, god forbid, sitting, I made sure I had time to move and sweat. My job demanded peak physical performance. I had to be able to run and lift, hold off attackers or grab my principal and get them out of a bad situation. Lou, of all people, knew I needed time to keep up with my workouts, and that included at least one long run per week.