Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 82060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Though, he’d been wrong. His stuff didn’t take up a quarter of the space, it maybe took up a sixth. It was clear it was casual gear he wore to work, but my man needed more clothes.
It looked like no one loved him.
And that wouldn’t do.
After that, Darius and I finished off the bottle of wine he’d opened earlier while sitting cuddled together on his creamy-beige couch in the living room, with me asking questions I’d been dying to ask, and getting answers I loved to hear.
Yes, he liked his work at Nightingale Investigations.
No, it didn’t feel like Lee was his boss. Lee didn’t manage his men that way, or he wouldn’t have the men he had. They were a team, Lee was just their leader.
No, it wasn’t as dangerous as I’d feared it would be. It was just that the Rock Chicks were magnets for disaster. All their shit was outlying (I wasn’t sure he told the whole truth about this, but since my cloud of happy goodness was forming around me, I was letting that be).
Yes, he bought and paid for all of this during his drug dealing days. And yes, he had money safe and tucked away so Liam and I were set for life. Also yes, Lee paid well for the work he did. But no, the ties to that life were completely severed. It hadn’t been easy, but he and his Aunt Shirleen were out and there was no going back.
Shirleen, by the way, was Lee’s receptionist.
So yeah, those men always took care of their family.
And it wasn’t lost on me when we got to the “set for life” part that this was likely, if possibly unconsciously, why Darius stayed in the game as long as he did.
His father could have no clue he’d be murdered, but when he was, his wife and children were nowhere near set for life.
But even though nothing was going to happen to my man (God willing), Liam and I were.
Eventually, the bottle was empty, and I was tired, so we called down our goodnights to Liam, went upstairs, made love, and I passed out.
I woke up to breakfast at the island with my boys. It was an unusual gray, blustery day for Denver, but it shined bright for me in that kitchen.
I went to work, and after work, I went to my place with my big and medium suitcases and filled them again.
Yes, I was moving fast.
No, I didn’t care.
The writing was on the wall. I’d waited years for this.
And anyway, I needed more shoes.
I got handed guff from Darius when I rolled one of the suitcases up to the back door, and he sent Liam out for the other one.
He took the one I rolled up to the closet, where I followed him, in which there were three bags filled with hangers.
I changed into some jeans and a warm sweater that hung off one shoulder and got down to work unpacking, but also taking Darius’s clothes off the wire hangers and switching them out with the new.
I ran out of hangers, counted how many more I needed and added a few in my mental calculations for growth purposes, deciding to sandwich a trip to the Container Store (and the mall, Darius needed a new shirt for the Rock Chick party, and new jeans, and boots) between the meet at Fortnum’s and the party.
I then went downstairs to the kitchen to find Darius cooking.
“I was gonna cook,” I announced.
“You can cook Monday,” he replied.
It was Friday. The party was tomorrow.
So…
“Monday?” I asked.
“We’re having dinner at Mom’s Sunday.”
“Oh boy,” I said.
“It’s gonna be fine.”
I wanted to believe that, and I kinda did.
We weren’t months deep in this situation, far from it, but so far, no hiccups.
So far, it was nothing but clouds of happy goodness.
We’d been through years of strife and strain, and everyone knew it.
Maybe now, I could believe.
Maybe now—enduring bouts of rocky times, the kind that life always eventually threw at you—we could be normal.
We could be free.
I went to the wine Darius had opened and poured myself a glass as he asked me, “You good with that?”
I nodded.
“Danni and Gabs are gonna be there,” he shared.
I’d liked his sisters. They were sweet. We’d been close. In fact, Gabby was in my grade and had been my friend before I’d started going out with Darius.
I was looking forward to seeing them again.
I took my wine to a stool, reminding him, “They always liked me.”
“Sorry, babe,” he said low, “but so you don’t walk in blind, you gotta know, they weren’t huge fans of you being angry at me and laying it out when I was in a hospital bed.”
Oops.
I caught his gaze over my wineglass while taking a sip.
When I was done with that, I said, “They’re going to have to get over it.”