Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 138169 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138169 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Grant cuts off my rabbiting thoughts with a long, deep sigh.
“You albino dumbass,” he growls before breaking into a smile, fierce and carnivorous. “Why the hell didn’t you fess up sooner? We could’ve helped you, you stubborn goddamn mule.”
I can’t help a shaky smile of my own. “Better late than never. I’m telling you now and hoping you’ll help me anyway.”
Lucas answers with a dark smirk.
There’s blood in that look.
Even after finally getting his answers, that need for revenge against the Arrendells still rides him so roughly I can practically see it clinging to his back.
“I’m game,” he says. “Just let me call the wife and tell her it’ll be a late night.”
Henri hesitates, an odd look in his eyes, before he lets out an easygoing chuckle and rakes his brown hair back. “Who needs sleep when we have hunting?”
“Then it’s settled,” Grant says darkly.
My heart jumps with hope as I realize the guys are truly with me.
They’re with me, they trust me, and we might just pull this off.
“Let’s gear up and get moving,” Grant rumbles again. “Time for a little late-night fishing.”
21
DARKNESS IMMORTAL (TALIA)
Ihate that when my phone rings, my heart still leaps with hope that it’s Micah.
It’s only been… what? A day or two?
Too soon for me to be over him, but I’m still telling myself I should be.
I’ve always been my own harshest critic. Always feeling like everyone else forgave me too much, and while my family and friends and doctors told me it was okay I wasn’t like the other kids, okay that I couldn’t do the things they did…
Really, I was the only one telling myself it wasn’t.
I was the one pushing for more.
I pushed myself to have a life, and that life isn’t over just because I’m missing my heart.
I just need a little time to heal.
Preferably without late-night calls ripping at the same wounds all over again.
As I lift my head from my worktable, I realize it’s been hours since Grandpa went to bed. I’ve been lost in fine-tuning details, working them into proper drafting plans with measurements and materials, then picking out just the right piece of lumber to start shaving away. I carve out the basic shape, curls of pale pine wood littered across my drafting table, my familiar tools resting in the velvet bed of their wooden case.
But it’s almost midnight and my phone is ringing.
Why the hell would Xavier Arrendell be calling?
I haven’t had the energy to confront him about the bounced check yet.
Maybe it’s a mistake.
Maybe a million other things I wouldn’t know because I’m not from a world where that kind of money changes hands easily.
I should ignore it.
Let him leave a message, and I’ll call back during normal business hours.
I really should go to bed.
But if I do, I’ll just wind up staring at the ceiling, wondering what Xavier wanted and trying not to think about Micah.
So, with an annoyed sigh, I pick up my phone.
“Mr. Arrendell,” I say, brushing sawdust and shavings off my shirt. At this time of night, I don’t have anything left in me to be soft and polite. “It’s pretty late. What can I do for you?”
“First, accept my humblest apologies,” he says smoothly, completely immune to my coldness. “I understand you had some trouble at the bank today. I’m deeply sorry for that, Miss Grey. I’m so accustomed to doing everything digitally that I must have picked up an old checkbook. My bank said a check of that size so dated triggered a hold for fraud.”
“So that’s what happened…” Relief floods my veins. “Apology accepted. We can sort it out in the morning, I guess.”
“I’m afraid we can’t,” he says quickly. “I’ll be out of town, handling an urgent business merger in Riyadh for the next two weeks. I’ve drawn up a cashier’s check—no risk of that bouncing. My flight leaves at the crack of dawn, I’m afraid, so I need to be out the door shortly. Would you mind dropping by since you’re still up? I’ll have Joseph leave the front light on for you.”
There’s a touch of teasing, familiar humor in the last comment, but it falls into an empty pit in my soul.
Holy hell, I can’t just say no.
But I don’t exactly want to do this.
“…couldn’t you just leave the check with Mr. Peters?” I glance idly at the darkness outside, barely lit by a crescent moon through the clouds. “I can come by and grab it first thing tomorrow morning.”
Xavier’s response sounds pained.
“Forgive me. Please don’t think me snobbish, Miss Grey. However, a cashier’s check is as good as cash, and I never leave that much cash with the help. You understand, yes?”
Yikes.
If you don’t want me to think you’re a giant snob, maybe don’t be such a sneering prick, I think glumly.
“All right. Give me half an hour. I’ll be there.”