Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 97364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
“Why do you act like you hate me?”
That tease of smile vanishes. “What makes you think it’s an act?”
Before my head or heart, or whatever the hell seems to control my emotions these days, can react, he stands and takes his plate to the dishwasher.
“Don’t you want to ask me anything?” I grasp for something that will keep him from walking away, even though he’s halfway up the stairs and, really, I should be pissed off about his reply, but I’m not.
“Did you shut off the oven?”
“Yes.”
His bedroom door slams shut. That was the only question he wanted to ask me? Oh, Theodore Reed … what happened to you?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Theodore
I don’t want her story, real or fictional. It won’t change mine. It won’t bring back the lives that have been taken. I cannot change who I’ve become, what I need, and where I’m going.
Nolan letting her live here is like someone offering me a chip. I say, “No, thank you.” But they insist. Finally, I give in and take a chip. Now I want to eat the whole fucking bag of chips and rip Nolan apart for offering me the stupid chip to begin with.
“Aaaah!!!”
I spit out my toothpaste and wipe my mouth. “For the love of god, woman,” I mumble to myself.
“Theo!”
Two seconds after I open my bedroom door, Scarlet is stuck to me like a koala to a tree. “What the fuck?”
“There’s … there’s …” With her face buried in my neck, she fights to speak each labored word. “An angry lizard in my room!”
“Off. Me. Now.”
She shakes her head, tightening her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist. I walk down the hall with a complete nutcase in a dinky T-shirt and threadbare panties, clinging to me.
“Where?”
“Bathroom.” Her nails dig into my skin as I approach her bathroom.
“It’s an anole.”
“What are you doing?” Her shrill voice pierces my ear.
I bend over, koala still attached, and grab the lizard. Then I walk out onto her balcony and give it a toss. “Gone. Now get off me.”
“What if there’s more?”
“Then toss them over the balcony.”
Her head jerks up, eyes ready to pop out of her head. She smells like all the girly crap I hate. Her skin is too soft. Her lips are too full. Her breath is too warm against my face.
Why is she looking at me? Why isn’t she climbing down? One of her hands releases my neck as her gaze moves along my face, following her hand that brushes along my cheek, her fingers ghosting over my eyebrows, down my nose and over my lips. My eyes close and my dick hardens. I don’t care if she can feel it.
Damn chips. I could fucking eat her up in more ways than one right now.
“Tell me …” I whisper, “… tell me a lie.” I need her to talk, anything to keep from stripping her and taking what I want. I thought once would scare her. I thought it would satiate me. It didn’t and I’m not sure it ever will. So, this can’t happen.
She swallows hard. “When I leave here, I’m going back to London to get married. I’ve picked out a lovely forty-five piece handmade tableware set with cobalt blue trim. The guest list is two-hundred and seventy-three.”
My hands go from limp at my sides to wrap around her, but I don’t open my eyes. “What’s your fiancé’s name?” If she hesitates, then it’s made up.
“Daniel.” She doesn’t hesitate.
He’s real. Where the fuck is this guy and why is he allowing this woman to have her body wrapped around mine?
“What does he do?”
“He’s a highly-sought-after wildlife photographer and videographer.”
“Did he give you that necklace.”
I don’t have to open my eyes to know that her hand moves to the ruby pendant dangling from the gold chain around her neck. I’ve never seen her not wearing it, but when she gets nervous, her hand moves to it, like a talisman.
“No.”
“What’s the most valuable thing you’ve ever stolen?”
I can’t remember the last time I felt someone’s heartbeat against mine. Why is she here? I get it, God. You know what I’m planning and you think she’s going to distract me. It’s too late.
She releases her grip on me, and I let her slide to her feet. Letting her go isn’t easy, but it’s necessary. That single, most unexpected thought gives me pause. Leaving behind an unsettling pain that I fucking hate.
I open my eyes to the many flecks of brown and gold in hers.
After several blinks, she whispers, “A life.”
*
Days and weeks pass in more silence. Scarlet seems to disappear emotionally. After days of nonstop jabbering, she closes off from the world. She spends more time with the crazy Asian guy, takes longer walks, and devours more books that have cluttered the house, only outnumbered by the fucking plants. I don’t say anything about the mess, it’s a fair trade for her silence.