Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 102693 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102693 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
“Oh, I’m not.” She rests on the wall that separates the kitchen and the living room. “But I am mad at you for leaving without telling me.”
I sigh, pouring from a pot of coffee and scooting up onto the kitchen counter. “I’m sorry.”
“Can you tell me why she needed you?”
I open my mouth, then close it. Had Madison not told Tillie that she was pregnant? There’s obviously a reason why she hasn’t, so I decide to once again tell a small lie. “I can’t say, but I’m sure everyone will know in due time.”
“All right,” Tillie says. “So much for my pact.”
My words get caught in my throat. I don’t want Tillie to feel that way, and although we haven’t spent as much time together as Bishop and me, but still more than Abel and me, the bond between Tillie and me is natural. It doesn’t need time. It doesn’t need nurturing or attention, because I know that without a shadow of a doubt, she will always have my back.
I rest my mug on the counter. “It’s just not my secret to tell.” I chew on my lip. “You can’t tell Nate. I’m serious, Tillie…”
She sighs, massaging her head. “Okay, no, don’t tell me.”
I cock my head.
“If I can’t tell him, then that’s why she hasn’t told me. She knows my big mouth with Nate.”
I chuckle around the lip of my mug. “Okay.”
“So, Scarlet chose your dress. Have you seen it?”
I shake my head. “No. Where are the boys?”
“They’re gone. We won’t see them until tonight.” My coffee curdles in my belly. Brantley didn’t tell me what happened with him last night. And furthermore, I miss him and I only just saw him an hour ago.
Tillie gestures out the door and we make our way over to the main house.
“So many toxic memories at this house.” Tillie shakes her head. “So many no longer with us.” I watch as a wave of sadness washes over her. We’re not quite at the main house when I find myself asking her.
“I don’t know much about yours and Nate’s story.”
She laughs, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Well, it would take a lifetime to replay it all for you.” She pauses, her steps slowing. “You could say we lost important people.”
I don’t want to press the issue, so I grab her hand.
She smiles down at it but pauses when she sees the cut on my arm. “That creepy bastard.”
I turn my arm over to look and laugh. “It’s not that bad…”
“You’re into it?” she asks, an eyebrow quirked.
My cheeks heat. “A little.”
She nudges me with her shoulder. “You’re definitely my sister.”
We make our way into the house, where classical music is playing and people I don’t know are moving around everywhere.
Scarlet comes rushing out, grasping her hands together. “Thank God, Saint, sweetie, I need you in here to check your measurements.” Scarlet takes me, moving me into the large dining room where dresses hang off plastic hooks.
She points to another woman. “This is Elena, Madison’s stepmom.” Scarlet taps a long finger against her cheek.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, after nodding at Elena.
Scarlet scoops up her phone and pushes on a number before bringing it to her ear. “What is she wearing tonight?” She pauses, her eyes wide on me. I shuffle uncomfortably. “Are you sure?” Silence, and I look at Tillie. She shakes her head. “That’s never happened. Ever, Hector. Will this put a target on her?” Again, I widen my eyes at Tillie.
Who rolls hers, popping a potato chip into her mouth and taking a seat on one of the chairs.
“Okay,” Scarlet says. “I love you.” She hangs up, grasping her phone to her chest. “Well, I’m going to guess that Brantley isn’t going to be happy with us, but you’ll be wearing Hayes tonight.”
Brantley
Decorators are rushing around the main foyer of the hotel in downtown Riverside. We’re all circled in the basement, a flask of whiskey in my hand and a joint in the other. I run my hand through my hair, ruffling it up. Tearing off my tie so it falls loosely around my neck and flicking off the first four buttons of my shirt, I hand the flask to Nate.
“Fucking hate being in a suit,” I growl.
“Same.” Nate snickers. “Tighter than Tillie’s cunt.”
I slowly glare at him as everyone around us pauses. “Really, fucker?”
He laughs. “Oh please. You know what I’m talking about.”
I flip him off.
“Or is Saint—”
My hand is in his hair, pulling him to me.
“Ow, ow!” He laughs. “Fuck, okay! Shit.”
I shove him away from me. “Wanna talk like a bitch, I’ll treat you like a bitch.” I can’t help the laugh that leaves my mouth. Some shit never changes, and Nate’s bullshit is one of them.
He pats his hair. Fucking pretty boy.
Bishop glares between the two of us. “Both of you shut the fuck up.”