Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63866 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63866 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
"I heard," I say, feeling like a dick. I should have called her, but my mind has been elsewhere. I've been cleaning up the mess left behind after the family dinner of all dinners that had centered around her. "Congratulations."
"What do you think it will be?" Cosima beams up at me, her hand resting on her stomach. There isn't really a bump yet.
"A boy."
"Really?" Her brows lift. I shrug. "It's a boy?"
"My guess."
"That means it is a boy! When you guess shit, it happens."
"I'm not a psychic." I shake my head at her. She is always saying that.
"I know, but it's freaky."
"What's freaky?" Tova asks, coming over toward us.
"He said I'm having a boy."
"Oh, wow. Congratulations. Now me. What am I having?"
"A girl."
"We'll have one of each," Tova says with a giant smile.
"You should probably ask a doctor. Which I am not."
"Cosima makes vision boards that come true, and you speak things into being."
“He’s such a Pisces,” Cosima says to Tova, who nods in agreement. I don’t know what the fuck they are talking about, and I’m not asking. I’ll get roped into a conversation I don’t want to hear.
“I take it Z’s in with War?”
“Yeah, is that for me?” Cosima nods to the small box in my hand. “My congratulations gift.”
“You don’t want this one.” Although it might be funny to see their reaction to what’s actually in the box. Might be worth it.
“Oh.” Cosima’s face scrunches, and she steps back.
“What? Is it bad?” Now Tova’s eyeing the box. She might be married to War, but innocence still clings to her. Cosima may be super girly, but unlike Tova, she grew up in this life, so there’s not much that surprises her.
“It’s a gift for War.” One our brother will appreciate more than anything I could ever buy him.
“We’ll let you get to that.” Cosima grabs Tova’s arm. “Let’s get a snack.”
“Are you staying for dinner?” Tova asks as she is being pulled away.
“Not sure,” I tell her while heading in the other direction. When I enter War’s office, both he and Z stop speaking.
“You’re done?” War stands from behind his desk.
“Yeah.” I drop the box down in front of him. He picks it up and opens it.
“Wasn’t sure which finger you wanted.”
“Any one would have done it.” He shuts the box.
“That’s why you can’t only do fingerprint scans anymore,” I agree.
That technology alone for security isn’t enough. Chopping off fingers is child's play these days. Full facial recognition is a much better option. The best is a number code greater than 10, which takes a few decades to crack. But I don’t get into any of that shit. That’s Z’s responsibility.
“There’s more?” War asks.
“Yep.” I walk over to the black leather couch against the wall, dropping down into it. I kick my feet up on the table. “I have my own business I need to handle.”
“All right.” War braces his hand on top of his desk, his gaze on me. I know he’s trying to read me. Good fucking luck. “And this has nothing to do with family business.” I debate how to answer that. I don’t want to lie to War, but I also don’t need to tell him all my personal details.
“It’s more my own business.”
“So, personal.” Z drops down at the other end of the couch but turns to face me.
“Why the fuck are both of you staring me down?”
“We can’t check in?” Z smirks.
“Is there anything I need to know?” War sits back down in his chair behind his desk. He picks up the box, putting it into one of the drawers. Z doesn’t say shit, but he knows.
He tried to tip me off to Marks tracking me. I didn’t need his warning. I also don’t need him trying to secure my shit and trying to lock my little fox out. I want her to look at me as often as possible.
“You can trust us.” Z tries again, his last attempt to get me to talk about Marks not having worked. It’s not them I’m worried about. I’m not ready for Tova and Cosima to know anything yet. I know without a doubt that War and Z will both fold like cheap chairs if their wives ask them what’s going on with Marks.
“Why am I the one that doesn’t know what the fuck is going on?” War’s irritation floods the room.
“It’s personal.” He wasn’t Chatty Cathy about him and Tova.
Oh, I fucking knew, but War wasn’t saying that shit out loud. In fact, he didn’t want anyone knowing anything. Until there wasn’t much of a choice and he couldn’t hide it anymore. Is that what will inevitably happen to me? I suppose. I'm starting to get desperate on some level.
I know where Marks is. I have known since the moment she took off. People can get sloppy when they run. Sure, Marks cleaned up her digital trail, but she can miss what's right there in front of her not watching through a screen at all.