Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 98755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
“Thank you for the lift,” I say, getting out of the car.
“Be careful,” he says, and his warning tone makes me stare at him over my shoulder. “I know it’s exciting when you think you’re in control of a situation. I know the game well. But sometimes, it can also catch us off guard and drown us. If the waters get too deep, let us know, and we’ll deal with this for you.”
A genuine smile spreads across my lips. I know I’m protected. Ford’s projecting his own recent miscalculation that almost cost him and Billie their lives. I don’t think I’m clever than him, and I’m slightly out of my comfort zone, but that’s what makes messing with the detective so thrilling. But I won’t ignore Ford’s warning.
“Thank you, Ford. You and Hawke will be the first people I call. Please don’t tell Billie about this.”
“About what?” he asks with a grin.
I close the door and head to the house, a far deeper sense of dread filling my veins. I wasn’t expecting to come home so early. So, as I’ve already faced down one demon tonight, I suppose I should manage another one.
My mother’s home and I promised myself I’d tell my parents I want to drop out of college. I don’t know how they’ll react. I don’t think they’ll be too disappointed, but it doesn’t make it any less nerve-racking.
I find my parents in the living room, my mother’s head in my father’s lap, him stroking her hair, his gloves removed, and on the arm of the sofa. They seem to be watching some singer on the TV. I know it’s actually my mother who’s watching; my father simply enjoys watching her.
It’s fascinating that someone like him could find love, especially with someone as incredible as my mother. It reminds me that love happens in unpredictable ways. Their two worlds surely should’ve never crossed.
They both look up when I step into the living room.
“You’re back,” Mom says excitedly and waves me over. She sits up but doesn’t leave my father’s embrace.
“At a reasonable time, too,” Dad adds.
My mother slaps his shoulder. “Please. Midnight is early,” she says to him, then she turns back to me. “At least you went out. Was it fun?” she asks, making room for me on the couch. She embraces me, and it’s nice when we can have moments like this. We’re always so busy, our careers leaving us little time to be together. I was always inspired by my mother’s work ethic, and so I cherish the moments when we can be a normal family like this, knowing it won’t last forever.
When I’m overwhelmed or have too much going on, I know my safe place is right here with them. I want to tell them about Braxton, but I know if I do, my father wouldn’t waste any time finding him and killing him without a second thought. And I do want Braxton dead, but I want to do it on my own terms. He’s been toying with me for the last few weeks, so I feel it’s only fair that I toy back.
I’ve kept my morbid curiosity about the dead from them, so surely, I can keep this a secret, too.
“What’s wrong, sweetie?” Mom asks, angling her head.
“Did someone touch you tonight?” Dad grits.
“No, Dad. And if they did, you and I certainly wouldn’t be having a discussion about it.”
My mother laughs as he shoots me an unimpressed look. I cross my legs on the sofa as I turn to face them.
“I do, however, have news for you,” I announce.
They seem worried, and I let out an exasperated breath.
“I think I want to drop out of college.”
Silence fills the room. Then my father reaches for his phone, asking, “Should I make the arrangements now?”
“No, Dad. I can do that myself. Aren’t you a little disappointed or something?”
My mother reaches out for my hand. “Sweetie, we would never be disappointed in you. You have excelled at so many things already at your young age. To be honest, we were hoping you might make some changes for yourself. We don’t ever want you thinking you have to do anything to impress us. We love you. If anything, you can afford to loosen up a little.”
I open my mouth to speak but snap it shut again.
“But not too loose,” Dad is quick to add.
My mother rolls her eyes. “What he means to say is, you’re only twenty-two, and we are so proud of you and you’ve exemplified to yourself already that if you put your mind to anything, you can achieve it. But sometimes having fun is part of the process, too.”
I always find it ironic when my parents offer me a work-life balance discussion when they’re the worst choices to ever give this speech to someone. But it does fill me with relief. I almost feel like I’ve gotten off too easily. But perhaps my studies really have become irrelevant. I went to college for the experience, but now it just feels like it’s hindering my growth as an artist. And maybe I want to make time for other things.