Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 85228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Eli looks relieved, but when he gives Nyx a soft smile, it's clear just how great of a child he really is.
"Maybe next time," the child offers the man.
"You got it," Nyx tells him as he pours his coffee out in the sink, giving the boy a quick, genuine smile.
"His muscles are bigger than mine," I say as I lean in to talk to Eli.
Eli looks around once again, from the looks of it, making sure Nyx won't be able to hear him. "He scares me."
I nod in agreement. "Good thing he's on our team, huh? Sometimes a big scary guy can come in handy."
Eli sits up straight again, and I can see his brain working with the consideration. "Good thing."
The child has been through so much in his very short life, and I can only imagine the work it takes to trust people now that he's safe.
I know that Jericho has assured him he's safe here, but the more people who remind him and prove it through their actions, the safer he's going to feel.
"Hey," Jericho says, his eyes landing on his son.
My heart clenches at the love in the guy's eyes for the child, and it's a feeling I remember all too well.
"Did you find us some help?"
Eli points to me. "He's got big muscles."
"Bigger than his," I whisper, throwing a thumb in Jericho's direction.
Eli giggles like only a seven-year-old child can do, head thrown back, all of his teeth showing.
"You don't have plans?" Jericho asks.
I shake my head. "No place I'd rather be."
It's not exactly the truth, but what I want is impossible to get. Hanging out with Eli will somehow be a balm to my soul as well as one of the more painful things I could choose.
I'm not the first person to lose someone who I loved, and I know I won't be the last, but some days are worse than others. Eli caught me on a better day, but honestly, I don't know if I could've told him no, even if it was a horrible day.
I don't know that I could live with seeing the disappointment in his eyes, not after already failing so many people I was tasked to keep safe. Letting others down might be exactly what it would take to send me off the deep end.
"I'm ready when you are," Jericho says, heading toward the coffee pot. "We have an hour and a half before your friend comes."
I know that “friend” is code for his therapist. Jericho mentioned that Eli has been seeing someone since he was rescued several weeks ago.
"Since you have the big muscles," Jericho says to me with a devious grin. "Grab that box at the bottom of the stairs and carry it up to Eli's room for us."
"Am I the pack mule around here?" I ask as I stand and carry my coffee cup to the sink, but I leave the room with a grin on my face, wondering how long I can keep up the act that nothing in the world is bothering me.
I've used the pain of my past more than once to help me get into character for certain jobs.
Before joining Cerberus, I worked for Immigration and Customs Enforcement, with a specialty in human trafficking.
My crossover job was keeping an eye on Hemlock, the man who was recently named the president of the Gatlinburg, Tennessee chapter.
I sat at the bar, drinking and looking pitiful, while I whined to the bartender, Zara, about my wife leaving with my kids. Zara believed me because my pain was real.
It may make me a solid asshole for drawing on tragedy to get a job done, but there are times in which people believing or not is a matter of life and death.
I still think Hemlock hates me because there were times I flirted with Zara, but we haven't had any serious issues. I imagine there will come a time when he punches me in the face for one reason or another. The man has a temper like I've never seen. He's different only when Zara is around. I'd never make the mistake of thinking that he's weaker because of the woman, but his sanity is easily questioned where she's concerned. His past behaviors are proof of it.
The box at the bottom of the stairs can't weigh more than twenty pounds, but I imagine that's incredibly heavy for Eli, who is undernourished and small-framed.
Sensing the child and his father behind me, I grunt with faux exertion when I lift it so his possible attempts to carry it don't give him some sort of complex. The child is fragile as it is.
I can't imagine Nyx faking something like this, but maybe he'd surprise us all.
I wipe at my dry forehead when I put the box down in Eli's room, smiling at Aspen when she enters just ahead of Jericho and Eli.