Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
“You do have one,” I say, way too aggressively. “Don’t say things like that. You’ve got a big heart, Sam.”
“I was just kidding.”
“Well, it’s not funny.”
I fold my arms and sit back, thinking of Sam as a kid. What an evil thing to have to do. What a horrible place the world can sometimes be. I want to reach forward, place my hand on his shoulder, and tell him, Our children will never have to go through anything like that. They’ll have a stable, loving home. Instead, I rest my hand on Jackal’s back, feeling his heart thudding through his body.
“This has turned into quite the day!” Eli says, oblivious to the mood of the car, drumming his fingers on the dashboard.
Sam and I stand just outside the car, Jackal lying on the backseat, as Eli enters the pawnshop alone. He insisted on going into the grimy-looking building by himself. This street feels more familiar to me, the graffiti, the general atmosphere. Even the sun seems darker.
“I didn’t plan on sharing any of that,” Sam says.
I step forward, and he casually takes my hip. It feels so natural, the way he presses into me. Just like last night, when he was between my legs, the nerves melted away.
“It’s horrible. I hate that it happened to you.”
“It’s life, Katy,” he says fiercely. “Never forget just how bad people can be. Sometimes, the only way to stop them is to do something worse.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.”
The corner of his lip twitches. The sunlight bounces off his silver hair. “Not everybody would agree with that.”
“I don’t give a damn about anybody else,” I say. “I don’t think you did anything wrong. I think you’re a force for good in the world. Unless you’re the world’s greatest liar…”
“I haven’t lied to you,” he says passionately, then gets that look again like he’s holding something back.
But I haven’t told you everything, I imagine him saying.
“Then you’re a good man, Sam,” I tell him.
Jackal whines as Sam leans down, taking both my hips and guiding his lips to mine. We kiss briefly, then I push my hand against his chest, ending it before we get carried away. My instincts are yelling at me.
“You’re a big baby today, boy,” Sam says, smirking at his dog.
“He’s not usually so loving?”
“No,” Sam replies. “You’re having one hell of an effect on him.”
“Silly Jackal,” I say, turning. “You’re crying more than a human baby.”
He whines, and I tickle him under the chin to show I was joking. When I turn back to Sam, he’s staring at me with hard eyes. He’s clenching his jaw like he’s trying to stop himself, but then he says it. “Do you want one… a baby?”
Every inch of my skin gets warm. My entire body heats up. My soul starts to ache. My thoughts crash into each other, and then I realize my words are crashing into each other as I try to speak, “Um, ah…” I laugh, shaking my head. “That’s a random question.”
He shrugs, looking at me closely.
“I want children,” I tell him. “I never used to. I was scared by the idea of it, honestly.”
“Why?” he asks.
“Money, mostly.”
He steps forward. “But if money wasn’t a problem?”
I swallow, holding his gaze with as much bravery as I can. Something important is happening here between us. This can’t just be random talk. “I’d have children if I could find a man who could tolerate me.”
He steps forward, his voice getting husky. His hand is on my hip again. “I might know some—”
The door to the pawnshop abruptly opens. Sam and I step away from each other, though Eli seems lost in his thoughts. It looks as though Sam and I are destined to live in a world of interruptions. Did you mean it, Sam? I want to say.
Eli walks over, shaking his head, muttering under his breath. As he gets closer, I realize he’s repeating something. “Wait in the lot. Wait in the lot. Wait in the…”
“Eli, is something wrong?” I ask.
“The gold has gone a-roaming,” he says, “but its owner might be enticed. On the way, he told me. Right now. On the way.”
Sam nods and leans against the car with his hands crossed over his middle. “If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s waiting.” Then he looks at me, his eyes getting hazy. “At least, I used to be.”
I fill with even more warmth. These aren’t signals anymore, are they? Texting might have started this, but he can’t hide his full meaning in person. Every inch of his powerful body proclaims that, at any second, he will jump on me, pull me close, and tell me he wants a family. He’s not good at waiting and doesn’t want to wait for us to begin.
This will be a story to tell our grandkids, I almost insanely say.