Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 79438 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79438 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“He probably paid off another judge,” she grumbles.
After Dylan’s death, I lost my fucking mind. Harper and my family were the only people who could get through to me.
“He should be behind bars.” My eyes lock with Harper. “But it is what it is, right? Some types of people will always get away with murder.”
The thought fills me with anger, and I do my best to breathe through it.
She nods, then asks, “What do you want to do after we visit Dylan?”
Every year, Harper and I take time on the anniversary of Dylan’s death to visit his grave. Afterward, we’ll have dinner or drinks to talk about our memories of him. It’s our way of remembering the amazing person he was.
Harper sticks to my side because it’s also the day where I tend to lose it a little.
“The same as always,” I murmur.
She reaches across the desk and gives my hand a squeeze. “Are you okay?”
I nod so she won’t worry.
“Okay. I’ll schedule it into our diaries.” She gets up and gives me a smile. “Time to get back to work.”
“Yes, boss,” I tease her, a grin slowly forming around my mouth.
Shaking her head, she leaves the boardroom while muttering, “I wish.”
“You can take over any day,” I call after her.
“There’s not enough money in the world,” she laughs.
Climbing to my feet, I gather my laptop before heading back to my office. As I take a seat behind my desk, I pull my phone out of my pocket to check my messages.
There’s nothing from Lily to say she’s gotten home safely.
I check the time, and noticing it’s already after five, I wonder if she’s still visiting her parents.
Opening the chat, I type out a quick message.
Callan: Just checking where you are. Miss you.
The text doesn’t show it’s delivered, which has a frown forming on my forehead.
I wait a couple of minutes, and when it’s still not delivered, I press dial on Lily’s number.
The call goes straight to voicemail, and once it beeps for me to speak, I say, “Please call me back as soon as you get this message.”
Worry slithers into my chest, but I set the device down. I try to focus on my work for an hour or so before checking for messages, which is stupid because I would’ve heard the phone beeping if I’d received any.
Christ! It’s almost seven, and I still haven’t heard from Lily.
My worry spirals out of control, and I try her number again. When it still goes to voicemail, I get up from my chair. Fearing something might’ve happened to her, I leave the office and head to her apartment.
With my heart pounding way too fast, I park my Bugatti in front of her building. I rush into the lobby and inform the doorman, “I’m here to see Lillian Harrison.”
“Who may I say is here to see her?” he asks.
“Callan Wright.”
He picks up the earpiece of the phone on his desk and dials her apartment number. After a few seconds, he shakes his head at me. “There’s no answer, Sir. Would you like to leave a message with me?”
Fuck. Where is she?
Just as I’m about to lose my mind, my phone starts to ring, and I yank the device out of my pocket. Seeing Lily’s name on the screen, I let out an audible sigh of relief as I press answer.
“Where are you?” I demand.
“I’m home. Sorry. My phone was off.”
“I’m in the lobby. Tell the doorman to let me up,” I order, my tone harsh from all the worry.
“Okay.”
Lily hangs up, and a second later, the phone on the desk rings.
“Yes, Miss Harrison?” He listens before murmuring, “Will do.”
Getting up from his chair, he gestures to the elevator. He scans his keycard, and the doors open. I step inside and nod at the man. “Thank you.”
During the ride up, I put my phone back in my pocket while trying to regain control over my emotions.
After what happened with Dylan, and not being able to reach him for hours before I found out he was dead, I tend to overreact when I can’t get hold of someone I care for.
And it’s clear I care a hell of a lot more about Lily than I initially thought.
I’ve gone for therapy, but it’s not something I can stop doing. That’s why I told Lily about my controlling side when we agreed to date.
The elevator opens, and when I step into the hallway, I see Lily standing by her front door.
“I was worried out of my fucking mind,” I snap as I walk toward her. “Why was your phone off?”
We move into her apartment, and she shuts the door before answering, “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. I just…” Her words trail away, and she swallows hard.
It’s only then I notice how pale she is and the dark circles beneath her eyes.