Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 130159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Yeah, at their expense. Nice move, asshole.
Damn, that voice in his head wasn’t wrong. Heavenly had lost her father less than a month ago. Of course she still spontaneously cried. She had good days and bad days. And he suspected she “talked” to the man every so often. But she was coping with his passing far better than Seth was dealing with the loss of his family, despite the fact he’d had eight years to do it. Then again, he wasn’t grieving anymore, not the way Beck meant.
Still, he wasn’t ready to spill all. He didn’t want to—ever. How would they look at him? Seth knew the answer. They wouldn’t. They would just run away screaming in terror. And they seemed determined to pry his violent past out of him.
What the fuck was he going to do? Seth grimaced into his third mug of bitter coffee, knowing full well it wouldn’t give him any answers.
River walked in, saving him from his circular reverie, and spotted him, then stopped short in the door. “Jesus. You look like hell.” He glanced at the pillow and blanket folded on the sofa and his brows furrowed. “Did you stay here all night?”
“None of your business.” He rose and handed River a piece of paper. “Here’s the new code for the building. Don’t ever give it to anyone again, for any reason, or you’re fired.”
“You’re pissed I gave it to Beck? He was worried about you. Hell, I was, too. You—”
“Didn’t give you permission to give out the code. I didn’t tell you not to—mostly because I didn’t think I had to—but that’s the only reason I’m letting it slide. Are we clear?”
River was every bit as tall as he was and probably outweighed him by twenty pounds of muscle. Unlike Beck, River knew how to fight dirty and wouldn’t hesitate to throw a punch. The only thing stopping Raine’s big brother now was the fact he needed this job. “Crystal. Next time Beck is worried about you, I’ll tell him not to bother because you don’t want anyone to give a shit. He’ll take that okay, I suppose. But I doubt Heavenly will. Then again, maybe you don’t care about either of them anymore. That’s how you’re acting.”
Ouch. That fucking hurt. The worst part? River wasn’t wrong.
“Can it. Here’s some shit that needs following up on.” Seth scooped up some paperwork from his desk and flipped it against River’s chest. “I’m going home to take a shower, change clothes, and find some decent fucking breakfast. You can catch me up when I get back.”
“Sure. But whatever’s eating at you? It’s like a parasite. It won’t stop gnawing until you get it out. I’m all ears if you can’t talk to Beck and Heavenly.”
He’d been an absolute dick, and River was still offering to be his friend. Goddamn it. Then again, hadn’t his whole family tried to reach him when he’d fallen off the deep end and let anger swallow him years ago? Yep. And he’d been too mired in grief, fury, and self-loathing to let anyone help him. The result? He’d spent nearly two years mostly alone and isolated from everyone he held dear.
Was he really going to hang on to the past? Or would he choose the new future he’d worked so fucking hard to cobble together with Beck and Heavenly?
Seth sighed. “Thanks. I appreciate the offer, but I’ve got an ear who will be plenty willing to listen.”
And kick his ass. Seth couldn’t forget that part.
He shut down his computer and grabbed his keys, then waved River’s way before heading out. Beck was probably at the hospital, and Heavenly would be leaving to put in some hours there, too. But Zach would be there, probably confused, lost, angry… And Beck had made himself clear that he wasn’t welcome there until he word-vomited up the shit in his past.
There was a reason he hadn’t given up the crappy bachelor pad he’d rented when he’d first made his way to LA a couple months back. Good thing he had it to go back to now.
But entering the nine hundred square feet of white boxy walls was depressing as fuck. His kitchen looked dusty. The sectional he’d picked up on clearance sat unruffled, its pillows perfectly straight, in front of a TV that hadn’t been flipped on in weeks. In his bedroom, the bed was made, but he’d taken most of the clothes from his closet. What the hell was he going to put on after he showered? For that matter, how the fuck was he going to shower when he’d taken his shampoo, gel, and razors to Beck’s?
Sighing, Seth decided he didn’t give a fuck. He found an old bar of Dial in the soap dish and a travel-size shampoo in the medicine cabinet. Close enough. A handful of minutes later, he emerged and toweled off, trying not to care that even his towels smelled musty, as if they’d been sitting in the linen closet a bit too long to be fresh.