Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 61767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
“Send him in.”
“Right away, sir.”
I collect the sonogram images just as the door opens, and I look up at Theron for the first time in the months since I found him in that hotel room with a needle in his arm. He looks good. Better than he did when he first returned to the house. He looks healthy.
He whistles as he takes in the space, and I see it through his eyes. It is spectacular with the deep chestnut leather furnishings, the tall windows, two on either side, draped with heavy, ornate curtains. A bookshelf at my back contains leather-bound volumes of law books, and my massive antique desk is set at the center of the room.
I tuck the images into their envelope and slide them into a desk drawer as I stand.
“Impressive,” Theron says, entering and approaching my desk.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“Meredith out there… it’s Meredith, right? She didn’t even know you had a brother. Am I your dark secret too, Judge?”
“This isn’t a good time. You shouldn’t be here. I’ll let you know when you can return.”
“Yeah, well, I think I’ll be waiting until hell freezes over for you to put the welcome mat out.”
“Can you not be a selfish prick for once in your life? You think you have any right to be here after what you did?”
He steps closer, his eyes searching my face. The bruises have mostly faded, but when you look close, you can see the lingering evidence of them. Not to mention I haven’t slept much and probably look like shit.
“What the hell happened to you?” he asks seriously.
I study him, waiting for some taunt, some mockery, but it doesn’t come.
“Judge?”
I exhale. “Nothing I didn’t deserve.” He’s wearing dark jeans and a charcoal V-neck sweater. He pushes his hair back, but it flops forward again. It has recently been cut. And the five o’clock shadow along his jaw gives him a devious look. He looks good, though. Healthy.
And I’m fucking tired. I brush my hair back, gesture to a chair, and take a seat too. I lean an elbow on the desk and rest my chin in my hand. “Didn’t I have to sign some release papers?”
He grins wide, and there’s my cocky brother. He is charming. I will give him that. It’s when that charm turns malicious that he’s dangerous. “I worked it out. But I did wait for you. And wait. And wait. But I guess life is busy when you’re Lawson Montgomery.”
“Fuck you, Theron. What do you want? What will it take for you to be gone because I can't deal with you right now.”
His lips move into the shape of a smile, but there’s darkness behind it. “It’s what everyone wants to know. How to get rid of Theron for good.” He looks around the room, eyes falling on the decanter of scotch against the far wall, and stands. “You ever get tired of it?” he asks, moving toward the drink.
“Tired of what?”
“Of being yourself. What’s the expression? Wherever you go, there the fuck you are.” We study one another for a long moment before he shakes his head and turns his attention to the bottle of scotch. “May I?”
“A little early, don’t you think?”
He shrugs a shoulder.
I gesture for him to go ahead.
“You?”
“No, thank you.” I haven’t had a drink since that day. I don’t trust myself to stop if I start.
He pours for himself, toasts air, and drinks a sip. He stays where he is and watches me thoughtfully. “What I did to Mercedes…”
I wait.
“Hurting her like I did, scaring her.” He drinks the contents of his glass and sets it down. His jaw clenches. He’s steeling himself. I wait until he meets my eyes again. “I should never have hurt her, and I owe her an apology at the very least. I owe one to both of you.”
This is different. Not what I expected from Theron. Him actually taking responsibility. I stop myself at that because who the fuck am I to cast stones?
“What happened to you? The last few years?” I ask.
He pours himself another and drinks a long swallow. “I found myself some trouble like I tend to do,” he says dismissively.
“I paid a lot of money to some very bad men, Theron. That’s not going to cut it.”
He swallows the rest of his scotch and sets the glass down, then slips his hands into his pockets, and all of a sudden, he looks like he used to when we were kids. When we were friends.
“Learning I was a bastard… finding out like I did, it fucked with me. What the old man did was cruel.”
“I know. But you need to get over it. He’s dead and gone.”
He snorts. “Get over it. Easy for you to say.”
“No, Theron, it’s just fucking reality. You move on, or you’re stuck in the past.”