Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97409 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97409 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
“Not sure it’s worth it to make a police report if it’s only those two things. Any damage to the house besides the door?” I look around.
“Not from what we can tell. It’s bare bones, so not much they can damage.”
My phone rings. Caleb is FaceTiming me. “You couldn’t wait for me to call you?”
“Sierra wanted me to call you,” he says. “She’s injured. Do you want her more injured?” I can see her sitting on the bed beside him, and she turns to look at him, confused.
“Throwing her under the bus when she got shot is a new low.”
“Didn’t even try to protect me,” she mumbles.
“Whatever,” he hisses. “What is it?”
“Probably some kids fucking around.” I report to him about the door and what was taken.
“Okay, the doctor is coming in,” Caleb says. “I’ll keep you posted.”
“Later.” I hang up, then turn to Nino and Frankie. “I’ll call Mikaela now and get the missing tools replaced. If you see anything else missing, let me know.”
“Will do,” Nino confirms as I walk out of the house and head over to the next jobsite.
The day gets away from me, and by the time I check my watch, it’s a little after five-thirty. I get home, making a beeline for the shower before walking to the kitchen. I pick up my phone, wondering if Collins is feeling okay. I still don’t even have her fucking number to check up on her. I open my fridge and take out the two steaks, and then make some rice and veggies.
I sit down to eat by myself, my head spinning around in circles, thinking about how the fuck to make this right. When I’m done, I take out a Tupperware and fill it with the steak, rice, and veggies, and put it in the fridge before dragging my ass to bed.
It’s only 7:45 p.m. I set my alarm for 3:00 a.m. again before I crash. I sleep the whole way through until the alarm rings, and I slap it off. I roll out of bed, heading to the bathroom before brushing my teeth and getting ready.
I stop in the kitchen, grabbing the food container and then heading to the truck. The drive there is as quiet as it was last night. When I arrive, her car isn’t in the driveway. Panic runs through me. I’m about to make my way over to the station when a car pulls up beside me. With a sigh of relief, I look over at Collins and her tired expression.
I grab the food from the passenger seat and get out at the same time she does. “Hi,” I greet awkwardly, holding up my hand.
“What are you doing here?” Her hair is tied up, and I can’t decide which way I like it more. Well, I know I really liked it when I was running my fingers through it.
“I brought you dinner.” I hold up the container. “Or breakfast, whichever you call it.”
“Theo . . .” She sighs, and I can hear the fatigue in her voice. “I don’t have the energy for this right now.”
“So then stop fighting with me and let me come in.” I follow her up the front steps that have seen better days. She slides her key into the lock and lets me in, the hot, thick air assaulting us right away.
“Do you want to go shower while I warm up your food?” I ask her.
“I want to go shower.” Her face looks paler than it did yesterday. “But it might be easier to get this talk out of the way so you can go and I can relax.”
“I’m not leaving,” I assure her, and she just shakes her head.
“Theo, really.” She puts her bag down on the kitchen table and holds on to the back of the chair. “We don’t have to do this. We don’t have to drag this out.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I brought you dinner.” The sudden need to be near her, to take care of her, is more powerful than I care to admit. I walk over to the kitchen and put it on the counter. “We’re going to sit down and talk a bit. You are going to eat, and then I’m going to leave.”
“Fine,” she gives in, the exhaustion winning. “Whatever.” She leans over the sink to open a window.
“I got that,” I tell her. “Go shower.”
She looks down at her feet, not sure what to do. I’m waiting for her to fight back, but instead, she walks toward the back of her house, where her bedroom is. I open the windows, then go out to my truck and grab the two new fans I bought when I picked up a new nail gun. I hear the shower going as I put the food in the old microwave, ready to start when she comes back into the room.