Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
I’d thought about sending the text to Quinn, who was now over the gang division instead of my brother, Quaid, but ultimately decided to go with Quaid since he was the one running the gang division when all the shit had gone down with me getting stabbed.
“Do you need me to cover anything?” I asked.
“It’d be really fuckin’ nice, but I know that you have to go sniff out the high school, so I won’t ask that of you.” He sighed.
“I’ll probably be done around eleven. I can cover whatever you need after that. Just tell me where,” I offered.
“Who’s the girl?” he asked instead of answering me.
I closed my eyes and sighed. “She’s the girl that Gable and I saved when we were hiking in Colorado. The girl that was hit in the head with that boulder and left.”
“I thought she lived in New Mexico?” he wondered.
“She did,” I confirmed. “But she moved here to get away from her ex, who might I add is also still an issue and followed her down here. As for the video I sent, last night Bindi told me that she was in the dog area at our building. Some guy approached her. I sent you the video last night. He followed her out onto the street, then down the road. When she realized she wasn’t shaking him, she came back, and came to my apartment instead of her own.”
“Smart girl,” he said. “Did she move there because of you?”
“No,” I admitted, slightly wishing I’d been the reason. “We were both more than surprised when we met up.”
“You have to stay away from her,” he pointed out “I think it might be time for you to get the fuck out of that building. If you care about her, that is.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Of course I care about her.”
“Then leave,” he emphasized. “You can’t put her in danger. Being blind, she likely already has all the danger she can handle.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, keeping my eyes squeezed shut.
A laugh had my eyes snapping open and my hand dropping to the chain-link fence in front of me.
My head turned, and I watched her walk up with Rooster at her side, happily prancing along.
Every time he pranced, his head would butt her hand.
“She’s there, isn’t she?”
“I’m at the dog park with Boss,” I admitted. “Way across the yard. She can’t see me.”
“She can’t see, period, dummy,” he pointed out.
I winced.
“Your house is practically ready. You just need to order furniture, and that takes like two seconds,” he pointed out. “Get it done, bro.”
I sighed. “I will.”
“I’ll send Ellodie with you,” he said helpfully. “She likes doing that shit.”
“Fine,” I grumbled.
“Tomorrow?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I conceded.
“Give your notice to your landlord,” he said. “Pay the rest of the months. But get out of there.”
I knew he was right.
But why did the thought of leaving her feel like a hole was opening up inside my chest?
Part Two
Present Day
Giving away free samples of my attitude today.
—Bindi to Garrett
BINDI
It broke my heart the day they moved out.
The first time I walked out onto my balcony and Boss wasn’t there for me to feed, I cried.
The second day when I got my mail and the sexy-voiced Garrett wasn’t there getting his mail, I felt a piece of my heart break off.
The third day, I was a damn mess.
The irrational thing was, I shouldn’t have been so upset.
I mean, he’d straight told me that he was going to move out.
Sure, I didn’t expect that to happen quite so soon, but he’d been bluntly honest with me. He’d also never given me any indication that he was willing to explore more with me.
Which had me controlling my shit by the fourth week. I realized that being a sad sac wasn’t going to get me anywhere.
That was when I decided to stop acting like my life had ended the day that rock had hit me in the head and completely stolen my vision.
My mom and I—her unaware of how heartbroken I was when Garrett had left—had searched for jobs in my field in the Dallas Metroplex that was also accessible by bus.
We’d found four such jobs, and though I’d worked at all of them for a little bit, none of them had been a great fit.
The first one was pretty cool—a startup tech company that might or might not have a lot of non-native English speakers also working there—but the pay wasn’t very good.
And although I liked the concept and felt like they might go somewhere someday, that wasn’t really in my wheelhouse.
Money, unfortunately, made the world go round.
The second and third had competitive pay, but getting to the job itself was a nightmare, and they were sort of unwilling to work with me on getting there besides sending a cab that I’d then have to pay for.