Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 133127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
He remains silent and still.
“I felt guilty, Brock. I felt guilty for falling out of love with him and falling in love with you.”
He stays silent.
“I kept going over and over the night that I told him I loved you. I kept seeing his hurt.” I pause for a moment. “And then I just went upstairs with you and went to your mother’s house without any regard for his feelings at all.”
Still, he doesn’t look at me.
“I didn’t want you waiting at home for me while I sat in the hospital.” I screw up my face. “I didn’t want you to hate me,” I whisper.
Silence.
“I love you, Brock, and more than anything, I was hoping…” I inhale sharply. “I was hoping that we could try and work this out.”
He doesn’t acknowledge a single word I’m saying.
“Can you at least look at me!” I shriek in frustration. “You let me cry in the rain for an hour last night outside your house and you didn’t even care.”
He turns, and his eyes meet mine.
“Can we?” I whisper hopefully. “Can we try and work this out… please?”
He stares at me.
“Say something,” I whisper. “What are you thinking?”
“What’s the information you have on the case?” he asks calmly.
My face falls. “I asked you a question.”
“And I asked you a question.” He rolls his lips. “Answer mine first, and then I’ll answer yours.”
I nod. Okay. He’s going to talk to me. “Fine,” I murmur. “Evidence is going missing from the lab.”
He narrows his eyes, his interest piqued. “What do you mean? What evidence?”
“Only evidence on the prostitute murders, too. Nothing else seems to be out of place.”
He frowns as he listens to me.
“Rourke set up a trap and hid some fake evidence one night. The next day, when he came in to check it, it had been switched...” I continue.
He frowns. “How does he know it was switched?”
“Because he put his own hair in it as a test. When he checked it the next day, it wasn’t his. Rourke thinks the lab is bugged somehow and that maybe someone is listening in on our conversations.”
He clenches his jaw and thinks for a moment. “I need to get a camera in the lab. How do I get in there?”
“You can’t, its completely blocked to the public.”
He puts his hands on his hips, lost in thought.
I think for a moment. “I could do it,” I offer.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want you involved in this.”
“I already am, though. It’s where I work. It’s one of my good friends. It’s in my apartment block. I couldn’t be more involved if I tried.”
“I’ll think about it,” he says calmly, and then he walks towards the door.
“Brock?” I call.
He turns back.
“You didn’t tell me what you were thinking?”
His eyes hold mine. “I was thinking that I wish I’d never met you,” he says flatly.
I swallow the lump in my throat, and my vision blurs. His words cut like a knife.
He turns and walks out, and I stare at the closed door feeling numb all over again.
He’s never going to forgive me. I’ve fucked it.
I place the slide into the microscope and peer through the lens. I can barely see through my bloodshot eyes. I’ve hardly slept a wink. Rourke is downstairs in a meeting with the other technicians. I pretended I had to do something urgent so that I didn’t have to go. I didn’t really. I just couldn’t stand the thought of sitting in a meeting for two hours talking about accreditation standards.
The door opens and then clicks shut, and I turn suddenly.
Peter has let himself into the lab. Oh no. Does he think I’m in the meeting downstairs too? I don’t want to startle him or see something that I shouldn’t.
“Hello?” I call.
His face lights up when he comes around the corner and sees me. He’s genuinely surprised. “Hello, my beautiful Tully.” He smiles and pecks me on the cheek. His hand grabs my hipbone and he pulls me snug to his body.
Erm…
“How are you?” He smiles as he tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear.
My skin crawls. He’s very touchy today.
“Fine.” I force a smile. “How are you?”
“Lonely.” His hand lingers on my hipbone and he squeezes it tightly.
My nerves begin to rise. “You should get a girlfriend.” I look around the lab.
Fuck…
As if reading my mind, he glances around the lab, too. “It’s just me and you up here today?” he asks.
I nod. “Uh-huh.”
“Mum told me about Simon and the baby,” he says.
I smile, relieved for a change in the topic. “I’m happy for him. She seems really nice. I was at the hospital with her the other night.”
His eyes glance down to my lips, looking like he’s going to kiss me.
What the fuck?
“And you left the other guy, too?” He smirks.
“Brock.” Get his name right you dipshit.