Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 104919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 525(@200wpm)___ 420(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 525(@200wpm)___ 420(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
I fucking hated it.
I wanted it to be like every other day. I wanted something to be the same so I could pretend that yesterday didn’t happen, so I could pretend that Andre was still somewhere in LA.
But life didn’t work that way. So instead I sat in front of the French doors in the bedroom drinking whisky and staring at the rain.
Duke hadn’t wanted to leave me. I was hurting. I was threatened. I was angry. Andre hadn’t known where I was…yet Kitsch had still fucking killed him. Why didn’t he just kill me the same night he ended Salvador’s life? So, yeah, I was seething. Guilty. But I’d urged him to talk to his family, help with whatever tasks needed help with. I knew life on the ranch didn’t stop because of rain. The only thing that changed was that you got wet.
He’d left with a kiss on my forehead and a promise he’d come back.
He must’ve said something to his family about coming over here since I’d been alone since he’d left. Just how I wanted it. I hated that Duke knew me well enough to know that’s what I wanted. Most people, especially overprotective alpha males, would make sure that the grieving woman wasn’t alone, was getting taken care of, clucked over. But without me having to say anything, Duke knew that was the last thing I needed.
I’d wandered around the cabin looking at photos, exploring in a way I hadn’t been able to do since we’d moved in here. I made sure to collect the images, burn them into my memory so I could revisit this place in my dreams. Thoughts of Andre were carefully shoved to the side. When it became too hard to avoid them, I’d started with the whisky.
I didn’t know how long ago that was. Not long. I wasn’t drunk, even though I’d had a lot on an empty stomach. Life wasn’t kind that way. I wished for oblivion, for a blurring of the edges. But everything was in stark detail. The images in my mind were too realistic. How had he killed him? A basic bullet to the forehead, his brains splaying out all over the floor? Or had Kitsch tortured him trying to get information he didn’t have?
I had a hard time distinguishing the fact that this was real. I hadn’t spoken with him in weeks. And I wasn’t speaking to him now. He could be alive now. They could’ve made a mistake.
But no. Duke would never have me hurt in this way unless he was certain. He would never make a mistake like this.
“Baby?”
I blinked.
The man in question was standing in front of me, and the way he spoke my name suggested he’d been standing here the entire time.
He was holding something. A plate of food.
“You need to eat something.”
I could’ve argued with him. It would’ve been something in character for me. Stubborn. Surly. Didn’t like being told what to do.
That person seemed so far away.
I reached out and took the plate and the silverware.
Duke sat down across from me. He was watching me. I didn’t take much notice, didn’t taste the food that I was putting in my body to simply placate him. It could’ve been delicious. It most likely was. But all I tasted was ash.
I was surprised when the plate was empty, when Duke took it to set on the small table between the chairs.
He’d refilled my whisky and poured one for himself. I was thankful for that.
He didn’t say anything, didn’t ask me if I was “okay” or anything vapid like that. Didn’t touch me either. I was thankful for it. I didn’t want hands on me, didn’t even want to be inside my own skin, but there was no choice in that.
We were silent for a while, the sound of the rain on the roof both a roar and a whisper.
“I didn’t think about it,” I said after a while.
Duke looked toward me, I could see that in my peripheral. I kept staring at the rain, at the darkness it was welcoming in. Was it night? Or did the day just welcome darkness once in a while?
“At Greenstone, I thought about it,” I said. “About the murder, about what it meant for me, of course. I didn’t give much thought to Salvador. Isn’t that horrible? I was sleeping with him, I watched him be murdered and I didn’t shed a single tear. That’s something off. Something wrong. You saw it from the start.”
“Baby—”
I held up my hand. “No. It’s okay. I’m a big girl. You didn’t like me because you had no reason to. I wasn’t likeable. The only person that liked me, not the characters I played, not what I could do for them, not who they thought of me, was Andre. He knew who I was and he liked me anyway.” I thought back to that night in the parking lot. “He saved my life,” I said quietly. “He didn’t even ask me where I wanted to go after I gave my statement. He drove me straight to Greenstone.” I looked at Duke’s eyes now. “To you. He was the reason for this. And then we got here and I forgot it all, the why of it all. I was just here and I let myself linger in that. Now Andre’s dead and I’ll never not think about it.”