Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
“Women?”
“Yes. We shared women. Occasionally at the same time.”
“Oh.” My lips fall open. I kind of find it hard to imagine Jonathan and Ethan doing threesomes.
“Is there a problem?”
“No, it’s just that Jonathan is possessive.”
“Of you, and of his wife, perhaps, but he wasn’t in the past. He didn’t care enough about anyone to be possessive.”
“So you, like, had threesomes…right?” I whisper, not sure if Agnus and the driver should be privy to this conversation.
“We had. Don’t get me wrong, we didn’t touch each other, but we got off on the same things. Not to mention, we were somehow always attracted to the same type of women.”
“Looks-wise?”
“No.” A mischievous smirk tilts his lips. “Personality-wise. Both of us could sense their demons, their mental scars, and I guess we were attracted to the broken sides of them.”
“Is that why he married Alicia? Aside from the revenge, I mean.”
“You know about that.”
“He told me.”
He nods. “It’s part of the reason, yes.”
“And you married Elsa’s mother.”
“Correct. Both women were…how to put it? Beautifully broken. At least, Abby was. Alicia slowly disintegrated from Jonathan.”
“What?”
“She pulled away from him after Aiden’s birth. He became her world and Jonathan was second.”
“That’s not what Aiden said. He mentioned it was Jonathan who pulled away.”
“Aiden was just a kid. He had no idea what was going on between his parents.”
“And you do?”
“Despite our rivalry, Jonathan and I remained friends. We talked.”
“Did you continue to share?”
He laughs, the sound light and amused. “Our wives? Absolutely not.”
Phew. Then whatever Layla heard about Ethan’s wife having an affair with Jonathan must’ve been a stupid rumour all along.
“So what happened? What caused you both to be at each other’s throats?”
“They both fucked up,” Agnus says from the front seat, making his presence known.
Ethan releases a breath that seems exasperated, but he nods. “We did. For net profit rivalry reasons, Jonathan arranged for someone to burn down my main coal factory in Birmingham. Due to a miscalculation, the factory caught fire while people were inside and many passed away.”
“The Great Birmingham Fire,” I gasp. It was all over the news back then. I can’t believe Jonathan was behind that.
“So you kidnapped Aiden as retaliation?” I ask.
“Correct. Though, due to another miscalculation, he was tortured for more than a week by my unwell wife and almost died. Alicia figured he was with us, and drove to find him, and that’s how she had her accident.”
“That’s why Jonathan blames you.” It all makes sense now. His aggression towards Ethan is fuelled by the past, and although the man in front of me indulges him, there’s something else to it.
He’s not as closed off as Jonathan, and he doesn’t hold grudges as long either. The reason he’s been a thorn in Jonathan’s side is probably because it brings back memories from when they were rivals or frenemies or whatever their relationship was.
“You want to be friends with him again.” I don’t voice it as a question, because I’m almost sure that’s the case.
“Friends?” He chuckles. “Are we talking about the same Jonathan?”
“He’s not a stone and you know it.”
“But he’s perfect at emulating one.”
“That’s because you keep provoking him.”
“The only way he reacts.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” I smile. “But I don’t think he’s that immune to emotions. He might not feel them like everyone else, but they’re there, and I’m sure he also remembers your friendship.”
“I wouldn’t bet on it.”
“I would, and you know what? I’m going to help.”
He raises a brow. “And how are you going to do that?”
The car comes to a stop at a gas station for a refill. My grin falters as I stare out the window at the very familiar face on the TV screen inside the store.
Ethan is talking, but I’m not listening. Like a moth drawn to a deadly flame, I open the door with shaky fingers and step out.
My ears buzz, and the closer I am to the store, the more everything else is erased from my surroundings. It’s like there’s no one and nothing. No smells, no sights.
Just nothing.
I’m floating on air, unable to feel my legs. By the time I reach the counter, where the cashier and a few customers are focused on the news, I think I may fall.
I don’t.
My feet keep me planted in place as the buzz in my ears gives way to the male news anchor’s voice.
“Turmoil broke out in the juridical system today when Judge Huntington approved the parole hearing of Maxim Griffin.” The image flashes from the anchor to an archived footage of when the police first arrested Dad. He was on his way home after that call he made to me when the police grabbed him. As they led him to the car, a conceited smirk tugged at his lips. “The most notorious serial killer in the UK’s recent history has murdered seven identified women and ten others remain suspected. The ages of his victims ranged from nineteen to thirty and all carried the same physical description.