Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
She dozed off on the drive.
I listened to the radio as I drove down the country roads toward Paris, the occasional headlights coming at me from a passing car in the other direction. With one hand on the wheel, I counted down the time until we arrived at my apartment, where this long day could finally conclude.
I used to spend my time in solitude, enjoying my cabin at the camp alone, having a lover in Paris who was only there in the evenings and gone in the morning. The rest of my time was spent with my laptop, in front of the TV, or working.
But now, Raven was with me every single day.
When she worked in the clearing, I didn’t have her around, but that time alone stopped feeling like a respite from her company. Her presence in the cabin didn’t feel suffocating. And when we arrived at my apartment, I knew she would sleep with me tonight, even if we wouldn’t have sex beforehand.
That was our life now.
Even though I was still angry with her after what happened with Fender, that anger didn’t change my feelings. When someone pissed me off, our interaction was usually over for good. If a woman said the wrong thing, she was no longer my lover. But no matter what Raven did…nothing changed.
We arrived in Paris hours later, driving through the streets that were still busy despite the hour, and passed the lit-up tower before I pulled into the park and slowed down in front of my apartment. I hit the button to open the gate and then the garage and pulled into the driveway.
She woke up when the car came to a stop. “Are we here?”
I hit the clicker, and the garage door closed behind us. “Yes.”
“Oh, thank god…” She stretched in the seat with her arms behind her head, making a loud yawn. “I have to pee. And I just fucking hate that place.” She opened the door and ran her fingers through her hair as she moved to the elevator.
I joined her in the elevator, and we rose to the entry level.
Her eyes were heavy like she was still half asleep.
I leaned against the wall and watched her.
She sighed when the doors opened, and she went first, in a hurry. “Gotta pee…gotta pee.” She went into the nearest bathroom and disappeared.
I made my way into the parlor and saw that it was meticulously clean because Miranda had taken care of it once we’d left. Groceries were in the fridge, clean linens were on the bed, and fresh vases of flowers had been placed everywhere…because she thought my guest would enjoy them.
I went upstairs and rinsed my face and got ready for bed.
I got under the sheets and plugged in my phone so it would charge, the bedroom door open because I assumed Raven would join me.
Minutes later, she did. She was in just her black thong with her hair up because she’d washed her face over the sink. She went to her side of the bed and pulled back the covers, getting in beside me, turning over to face me, and closed her eyes. She didn’t cuddle with me, like she was too tired and just wanted to go to sleep.
My hand moved behind my head as I turned to study her face, to watch her sleep.
She drifted off instantly.
I was tired, but I watched her anyway, thinking about one of my conversations with Fender. I’d asked if I could buy her freedom, and he said no. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that, and I didn’t think I ever would.
Twenty-One
Old Scars
I walked downstairs and found her on the couch, reading a book, fully dressed for the day, even though we had no plans. With her legs crossed, she absentmindedly reached for her coffee and brought it to her lips for a sip. She was in a green sundress, her full lips vibrant with a shade of lipstick, and the color over her eyes complemented the colors she wore.
When I reached the bottom of the stairs, she looked up at me, seeing me in nothing but my sweatpants. A night of sleep had seemed to wash away her anger because she looked at me with subtle softness. “Morning.”
I nodded then went into the kitchen to pour myself a mug of coffee. I took it black, while she drank hers with a gallon of milk. I grabbed a banana off the counter and stripped it so I could eat it in a couple bites. I usually went for a run every morning, but I was too tired for that today.
She closed her book then joined me in the kitchen. Whenever we were in Paris, she looked like a completely different person in her dresses with her hair done. She behaved differently too, a lot more relaxed, and the closer we came to returning to the camp, she reverted to her withdrawn existence. “Do you have plans today?”