Total pages in book: 260
Estimated words: 245483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1227(@200wpm)___ 982(@250wpm)___ 818(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 245483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1227(@200wpm)___ 982(@250wpm)___ 818(@300wpm)
“I still wish you’d called the cops,” Lydia murmurs as she makes her way back into the kitchen, striding right for her glass of wine.
“I called Reed,” I tell her as if it’s no big deal, but my attempt at a casual tone is anything but.
“Did they help you at all?”
They. Lydia doesn’t say MC, and a chill creeps down my spine. I can’t ever think about the club anymore without feeling an empty pit in my stomach. Loss and sadness. They were my family, and I lost almost all of them that night.
“Reed said he’d look into it for me.”
“And?”
I shake my head, focusing on tossing the stems of the flowers and not looking her in her eyes. I know there will be questions there and I’m not ready to answer them. “Haven’t heard anything.”
One of the things I love most about Lydia is that she knows when to push and pry versus when to drink wine with me talking about nothing, pretending like it’s all okay.
“You okay otherwise?”
“Yeah.” And I really am okay. It took a long time to feel normal after what happened that night four years ago and seeing Reed brought it all back and then some. “Yeah, I’m fine,” I tell her and myself both.
It took a long time to stop waking up with tears in the corners of my eyes. I still miss the MC and I never drive down Cedar Lane just to avoid any thoughts of the garage and the club. I think anyone would miss a group of people who were like a family to them. But I don’t cry about it anymore. At least not much.
Lydia sighs a little. “You want a snack?”
“You know I do.”
“Chips?” She’s already digging through my pantry like it’s hers too. That’s how it’s been for most of our lives. She’s as comfortable in my kitchen as I am in hers. I could sleep in her bed as easily as I could sleep in mine.
“You know I’m going to miss this,” I comment and wish I hadn’t. I know she already feels guilty about leaving me here while she takes off, living out her dreams.
“It’s not like I’ll be gone forever,” she chides, the bag of sour cream and onion chips crinkling in her hands.
With an audible inhale, I tell her she better not be.
I center the flowers on my countertop and riffle through the pile of mail, grimacing at the bill I’ve been avoiding, the one stamped red. “Ah, fuck it, I’ll deal with it on Monday.” I toss the mail back onto the counter, feeling free of it. Bills can wait for one more day. I want to savor this time with Lydia. It’s going to go so fast. “Why do you have to leave me again?”
“College.”
“Right, right, right.” I grin at her to cover up the ache in my heart. “The whole doing better for yourself and all that,” I joke.
I laugh at her and she fake laughs back at me until we’re both actually laughing. I’m going to miss her so much. She’s been the only constant in my life for so long. But it’s what’s best for her. She’s going to be a doctor one day.
“So …” The tone of the conversation shifts with that one word and I’m on alert again. I stare her down, but she stares into the red of her glass, her fingers fiddling with the skinny and tall stem. “You feeling okay with Cillian getting out soon?”
My stomach drops at the casual question. I’m frozen with my glass at my lips, ready to take another sip. Finally I do it just so I can complete the movement, then put it back down on the countertop. I don’t taste a thing. “I didn’t know Cill was getting out. No one told me.”
Lydia’s dark eyes go wide and then narrow. “But he’s staying with you?” She makes the statement almost like it’s a question.
“What?”
“That’s what Reed said. He couldn’t convince him otherwise.” My head falls back with disbelief. He was just here. Standing right where she is.
“What?” Pure nerves crush into my stomach. “When did he tell you that?”
“Last week,” she answers nervously. “How didn’t he tell you?”
“How didn’t anyone tell me?” I respond, pushing my wine away.
“Cillian is coming here?” Emotions swarm through me, making every thought harder to focus on.
“I swear to God that’s what he said. He came in and—”
“Reed came in?” I interrupt her to clarify and while she’s rushing out an explanation of what happened, panic takes over.
All I can see is Cillian, standing in this small rental, taking up every inch of the place and staring back at me with his sharp blue eyes, asking why I stopped coming, why I stopped calling. My body goes cold and I can barely hear a word Lydia says.