Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“Leave me alone, Brooks,” I said, voice sounding suddenly so tired. I felt it in my bones.
“I can’t,” he reminded me.
“Oh, for god’s sake,” I scoffed, shaking my head. “You haven’t seen Clay in years, and you’re acting like you are honor-bound to watch me now that he’s gone?”
“He wanted—“
“And he’s not here anymore!” I snapped, voice dangerously close to yelling.
I had to get out of here.
I was losing it.
And if there was one person I didn’t want to have a panic attack in front of, it was Brooks.
“Cali…”
“I don’t need a babysitter, Brooks. I’ve been managing on my own. I will continue to manage on my own. I don’t need you. Leave me the hell alone.”
With that, I whipped past him, rushing down the block.
I waited until I was around the corner to lean back against the wall of a building and start gasping for air.
He didn’t chase after me.
And as I lost my shit and waited on my ride, I tried to pretend that I was happy about that fact.
Even if some needy, stupid, girlish part of me wished he had.
Not that it mattered.
I wasn’t going to see him again anyway.
CHAPTER FIVE
Brooks
There was no way Caliana was as casual about Clay’s death as she was trying to portray.
Those two were tight. True, I hadn’t been around for years, but I couldn’t imagine a world where Clay would let his sister drift away from him. Especially when they had no one left.
So the way she was reacting was either a mask she was putting on just to me, or toward the world as a whole, trying to hide her grief behind a different face.
Over the next few days, I think a part of me expected her to show up, to claim some of Clay’s things, to get her paperwork, maybe even to reconnect with me.
And as each day passed without her showing up, I cursed myself for not following her, for not making sure she was alright, for not fucking communicating with her about my regrets for losing contact, my desire to maintain some sort of connection with her.
On the sixth day, the apartment was empty, save for the desk that I just hadn’t wanted to tackle yet. All the furniture was gone. Personal items were in the small storage unit I’d rented.
I’d repaired some holes in the wall, scrubbed the insides of the cabinets and the entire bathroom, and finally dropped down at the desk, looking at all the paperwork.
And I just… couldn’t bring myself to do it.
I needed to get out.
I was choking on my grief in this apartment.
Clay’s items and memories had been my only company for over a week.
I needed a break.
I could tackle the desk the next day.
I probably should have gone off to the club, caught up with the guys, seen what was going on, if there was anything that needed my attention now that I was almost done with Clay’s apartment.
But I found myself grabbing the file folder off of the desk, taking out the pages that had to do with me, grabbing Clay’s car keys, and heading out.
Did I feel a bit like a creep as I pulled up outside of the little mom & pop printing shop that Cali lived above?
Yeah, yeah, I did.
I tried to tell myself that it wasn’t creepy to make sure that Caliana had the documents she needed to be able to inherit Clay’s estate.
I hadn’t planned on parking just as the door to the side of the print shop opened, and Cali herself rushed outside.
Wearing, I shit you not, a neon pink tube top under a mesh rhinestone shirt, a pair of black shorts so cut off that the bottoms of her ass cheeks were hanging out, and a pair of chunky, high, neon pink and green combat boots.
Where the fuck could she be going dressed like that?
A car pulled up to the curb, and Cali pulled out her phone to confirm her ride-share before climbing inside.
“Fuck, Clay,” I said, looking up at the sky. “What’s my move here?”
I didn’t need to ask, though.
Because there was not a doubt in my mind that if Clay saw his baby sister dressed like that, going out alone on a random Wednesday night, that he would feel the need to see what the hell she was up to.
“She’s gonna fucking hate me for this,” I said as I waited for the car to pull off before following at a safe distance.
Wherever she was heading, it wasn’t close. Because thirty minutes later, we were still heading down the highway, heading in the direction of a densely industrial area full of factories and, well, not much else.
The knot that formed in my stomach at seeing her outfit twisted tighter as the ride-share suddenly turned off of the highway, onto a side street, then quickly into the parking lot of a darkened warehouse.