Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 109286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
He starts to cry again, and Daisy’s expressive face has gone from scowling to horrified all over again, which I’ll laugh about later when I tell Daniel all about this. “But, Regan, I love you, not Becca.”
“Then I suggest you give her some closure, too,” I say lightly and give him an impulsive hug. I pull away before he can entangle me in his arms again. “Good-bye, Mike.”
I hear his blubbering good-bye as Daisy and I walk down the hall. He doesn’t come after me. Mike’s not the type. And before, I wasn’t the type of girl that thought she needed that kind of guy.
Guess we’ve both changed.
DANIEL
Regan tells me that she has visited Mike and that he’s happy she’s moved on. I give two shits about Mike’s mental state and still think that I’d be doing the world a favor by putting him down like the diseased, worthless dog he is, but I figure Regan would not be okay with that. All that really matters is that she’s happy.
We had a good time visiting her parents again. They still treat me like I’m a god—as if falling in love while she has amnesia is some great accomplishment. The one good thing about visiting her parents is that they give us a ton of food that Regan and I eat for a couple of days after. Maybe I should look into a cooking class. Regan’s not the best cook, and neither am I. One of us is going to have to learn to operate the stove for something other than heating up soup.
I did make a mistake of complaining about the cold, which prompted her dad to produce an old jacket that made me look like I was the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. Later that night she had us watch Ghostbusters, which was, she said, sort of a horror movie. Regan asked me to put on the jacket, and she stuck two pieces of paper on my head to mimic the creature’s hat. I did so because she was laughing so hard that there were happy tears in her eyes. I would act out mime sketches in the park if it would keep that jaw-dropping smile on her face. But she agreed I needed warmer clothes, so the next day we went to one of the banks where Naomi had deposited the money she stole from the drug dealers. Regan was stunned by the amount. I kind of expected it. Naomi had been treated well primarily because she was so valuable.
“You can be a lady of leisure,” I joke as we leave the bank. I’d just wanted enough cash to buy my own jacket, one that didn’t feel like I was walking around wearing two pillows stitched together, but the amount in this one account leaves me thinking I could buy that island compound.
“That sounds terrible,” she says. “I’d go crazy sitting around doing nothing.”
“On the bright side, it’s a good thing you know about accounting.”
“I don’t think my calculator goes up that high,” she answers with disgruntlement.
Kissing her forehead, I place an arm around her shoulder as we walk to the bus stop. “Just think, you can put a sticker on your backpack that says ‘My other bag is Hermès.’”
She punches me in the gut, but the padding of the coat completely shields me. Huh, maybe this is good for something.
I keep myself busy doing handyman work for Nick. For a guy who could watch a mark for hours without moving, he’s showing surprisingly little patience with the mundane things around the apartment building.
“You really think that being a landlord is the right occupation for you?” I call after Nick’s retreating back as he stomps out of the first-floor apartment to turn the water off. We are attempting to hook up the sink, but apparently we’ve done something wrong. I’m pretty good at breaking shit, shooting guns, and running cattle—but wiring and plumbing? That’s like trying to figure out the inner workings of a female mind. It takes time and patience, neither of which Nick is displaying nor am I interested in exerting.
Regan is off at the university trying to argue that she should be allowed to take her tests and get her degree, rather than go through an entire semester’s worth of classes again. One thing about living in a world with rules, you can’t hold a gun to someone’s head and force them to do your will. Or I guess I could, but Regan wouldn’t allow that. I flip the wrench in my hand. It’s heavy, and the ratchet end would do a lot of damage. I could kill a man with a well-placed blow to the temple. Definitely incapacitate someone by a strike to the knee or the elbow. I swing out my arm to test the air resistance against the heavy steel tool.