Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 85322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
I smiled and folded my arms over my chest.
“It’s okay,” Colby said. “I probably woulda done the same thing.”
“Doesn’t matter. If Eric had been in the room, he would’ve punched me.”
“Aight,” Colby chuckled quietly. “Did everything work out?”
“Life’s good—I’ll say that much.”
I caught some movement, and they were slowly walking toward the door.
“By the way,” Alfie went on. “As you know, we’re moving in a few months. Let’s keep this between you and me—but when West asks if you’d want a room in the house instead of another guest apartment above the garage, can you do me a solid and pick the room?”
Oh, that little fucker! That was supposed to be Colby’s choice, for chrissakes. I’d told Alfie this today at lunch, and he’d promised we’d bring it up with Colby together.
“I don’t get it,” Colby replied. “Ain’it better I stay in the apartment? I don’t wanna step on any toes, man.”
I stiffened as unease gripped my chest from the inside. He couldn’t fucking think—
“Uh, let’s not get shit twisted hea, buddy,” Alfie said. “We’d prefer it if you were in the house. But we realize a teenager like you probably wants space.”
Yes, that.
Colby chuckled again, but it sounded awkward. “I’ve had space all my life…”
Ouch. I rubbed a hand over my jaw and felt like a goddamn idiot.
Alfie cleared his throat. “Then fuck space.” Well said. “We were tryna respect your boundaries, but say no more. It’s zero space from now on.”
I pinched my lips together and grinned. Sometimes, his lack of finesse still brought out the best responses.
“I’ll spell it out for you, kid. You’re family. We’re thrilled you’ve grown closer with JJ and his wife, but we wanna be your home. We wanna see you at dinner every night, and we’ll bitch at’chu if you stay out past curfew.”
The best responses.
I’d heard enough, so I quietly closed the window and returned to the kitchen.
Maybe they were having another moment outside, because they didn’t come in until I was halfway done setting the table. The rice was finished, the sauce was almost done, and I’d shut off the oven. I just had to take out the chicken.
Given the new topic between Alfie and Colby—hockey—I made sure to come off as casual. I’d let the boy know I felt the same way Alfie did later, though in a way that didn’t reveal I’d been a snoop.
I wasn’t brand-new.
Once the chicken was out, I poured the sauce over the dish, and Trip trailed into the kitchen and asked why our stockings weren’t up yet.
“Everything will be up next week, champ,” Alfie promised. “We gotta buy a stocking for Colby too.”
“I can do that on Monday,” I said. “Ellie wants one for Shorty too.”
I had to look at the ones we already had first, because it was a tradition to have them utterly mismatched. But with the first letter of our names on them.
“I hope you didn’t throw mine out,” Alfie said.
I frowned and set the food on the table. “Why on earth would I have done that? I much preferred to torture myself by looking at your stocking in the box at Christmas.”
“Awww…” He came over to me and smooched my cheek. “Don’t worry, I cried in my ice cream for you.”
I kissed him back. “Good.”
Trip scrunched his nose and exchanged a look with Colby, who shook his head in amusement.
“Ellie, it’s dinner!” Alfie hollered.
“She better not be covered in glitter.” I didn’t know how that kind of body wash worked. She’d had bath bombs with glitter before too, though the sparkles had thankfully dissolved in the water. “Trip, can you get the napkins on the island, please?”
“Yup!”
Meanwhile, I grabbed milk and water from the fridge.
I flinched, just catching a glimpse of the white napkins, and for a quick second, I saw myself wiping blood off Alfie’s hands. I’d gone through a dozen wipes to get it all off.
Right after I’d shot two men in the head.
Right after he’d tortured them.
I shook my head to clear it, and I fetched the salad bowl from the island too.
I supposed flashbacks were normal after that sort of experience.
Was I a killer? I honestly didn’t feel like one. What did that say about me?
Do you care?
When Ellie came down, her hair a damp mess, and thankfully free of sparkles, we all gathered around the kitchen table to eat.
The pinch of unease in my stomach loosened and disappeared, and I soaked up the chatter. The usual suspects, Alfie and Ellie, loved to rile each other up.
“That’s my milk, Daddy!” Ellie yelled.
“I had a quick taste. Calm down.”
“…and I was thinking about a microscope. Dad? Dad, are you listening?”
Right. I shook my head and smiled. “Of course, son. A microscope, huh? That sounds fun.”
“Yeah, it’ll be at the top of my wish list,” he said.
Duly noted.