Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“Kellen,” I say, trying not to sound surprised and annoyed with myself when I do. “What are you doing here?”
“Digging a hole. You know your shovel is a piece of shit, right?”
“You’re using my shovel?”
“Sure, I figured you wouldn’t mind.” He hefts it up onto a broad shoulder. “Been a long time since I saw you. What’s it like pulling weeds for my family all these years?”
I grimace and heat rises into my cheeks. Both embarrassment and a deep, dark rage that glides beneath my surface like an ancient crocodile ghosting through a swamp.
“Kellen.” I say his name like the curse it is. “Why are you digging out here? You’re going to get heat stroke.”
“Nah, I’m good. Almost done anyway.”
“Don’t you have people to dig for you? Since you’re so rich and all.”
He laughs once. “I dig my own holes. Always have.”
Which is fair, considering what he gave up all those years ago, but the word is this man has done very well for himself despite his outcast status.
I come closer, stepping through the bushes. On the ground is a fairly deep ditch, maybe three or four feet down, though only a foot or two around. Sitting next to the hole is a box, steel gray and simple, locked with a basic padlock, no markings, nothing to identify it, just large enough to fit inside.
“What’s in there? Burying a time capsule?”
“Don’t worry about it.” He sighs and puts the shovel down. “I know this is your turf, but I figured you wouldn’t mind, since I’m part of the family and all.”
“You haven’t been back here in, what, seven years?” Since Cait died, I don’t add, because that wouldn’t be helpful.
He squints at me and tosses the shovel aside. I grimace as it clatters onto the rocky ground. The shovel’s a piece of crap because implements come out of my salary—which is a sick joke considering how rich the Hayles are. They pay me okay and my living expenses are covered, but still, I’m not exactly rolling in it.
“I assume you heard my father died.”
I look away, down at the dirt. Yes, I’d heard, it’s all anyone’s talked about for the last week.
Orin Hayle, patriarch of the Hayle family, a rich construction magnate with flowing white hair and a nasty attitude, a man exuding health and vitality, fell down a flight of stairs and cracked his skull on the landing. He was sixty-five.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” I say even though I’m not remotely sorry at all. Orin was a bastard and made my life a living hell whenever he was home, and I’ve spent a quarter of my life thinking up nasty and brutish ways to kill that man.
“I’m not.” Kellen stoops over, picks up the box, and drops it into the hole. He frowns for a long moment before picking up the shovel and covering it with dirt. “I didn’t bother with the funeral. What a fucking farce that must’ve been. Can you imagine trying to eulogize my father? I’m sure my ass-licking cousin gave it his all. I bet he practically rolled out his slimy little tongue and sucked on my dead dad’s testicles one last time, instead of saying the truth. Which would be something like here lies one of the worst humans in the world, the scum of the earth, a real piece of fucking shit, and the earth is better off without him. I doubt a single person in that church is going to miss my old man. I sure as fuck don’t.” He grunts as he covers the box, filling in the hole one shovelful at a time.
“Why are you back then?”
“Because my fucked-up family’s been running Hayle Construction for the last seven years without me, and now it’s time for them to step aside.”
“That seems sort of—” I’m about to say extremely naive, but I stop myself, realizing it’s definitely not my place, and besides, Kellen might be my boss soon. Better to smile and play to his ego.
He looks up, grinning anyway. “Seems sort of unlikely?” He nods and finishes filling the hole. When he’s done, he kicks the dirt around, covers it with leaves, and does his best to make it harder to find the fresh-turned earth. When he steps back, it’s actually hard to spot and will probably be invisible in a day or two.
“I don’t have an opinion either way.”
“You liar. Tara Caruso doesn’t have an opinion? When I knew you, that was all you ever had. Cait used to say you were the smartest person she’d ever met but I thought you were full of shit.”
“Cait said that?” I ask quietly as a sudden, old wound manages to rip open again. I thought I was over grieving for my best friend, but apparently Kellen is still capable of making me feel like shit about what happened to her.