Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 163209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 816(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 816(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
They started for the door, with Cat still talking: “Maybe we should invite the floozies over for dinner? I’m sure at least one of them has some spare blankets we can borrow for a few days, and this place is a bit creepy with just us in it.”
“Company might be nice,” Laila agreed. “Jeremy?”
“I’ll text them,” Jeremy promised, and looked over at Jean. “Ready?”
“Yes,” Jean lied. He sent one last look around the barren space before following Jeremy to the door.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Jeremy
The floozies had left as many blankets as they could spare, but comforters could only do so much against this painfully hard floor. Jeremy woke up sore in a half-dozen places Sunday morning and grimaced as he pushed himself up. Jean glanced over at the movement before turning his attention back to his phone. There was only one person he’d be texting this early in the day, but he didn’t look tense from bad news. Gossip and general updates, then; Jeremy could live with that.
“Good?” he asked, just in case.
“Andrew had surgery last night. No complications, so he will be released this morning.” Jean set his phone aside and kicked free of his blankets. The movement was enough to make him wince, and Jeremy didn’t miss the sullen edge in his, “Forget the motorcycle. I will sell the car for a bed.”
“Assuming Cat’s right about its worth, you can afford both.”
If she was, Jean would be the only one getting any rest around here. It could be weeks before Laila and Cat saw a payout from their renters’ insurance, and longer for Gary’s court case against the arsonists to produce any money. Cat’s parents would send what they could spare in the meantime, and Laila’s would wire money over on Monday, but for now they were all strapped for cash. Yesterday’s priorities had been outfitting the bathrooms and kitchen, and then enough shirts and jeans to get them started. Furniture would have to wait.
“Maybe we’ll get camping cots,” Jeremy suggested as Jean staggered to his feet. Jean made an awful face as he pressed both hands to the small of his back, and the agitated sound he managed had Jeremy rethinking how badly he wanted to get up. The decision was made for him when Jean offered a hand, and Jeremy braced himself before catching hold. Jean hauled him up before folding the blankets into tidy squares.
Stretching did nothing for him, so Jeremy gave up and said, “Coffee?”
“Coffee,” was the ready agreement.
Morning light streamed harsh and bright through the living room windows, putting an uncomfortable heat into the air. Curtains were a priority around here, as much for that as to afford some privacy while they changed. The living room windows faced apartments, but Laila and Cat’s bedroom window was aimed at a neighboring office building. The girls had to change for bed in the bathrooms last night.
Cat had tried sticking to basics yesterday, focusing on pots and pans over the splendid array of appliances she’d once had access to, but she’d made sure to buy a coffee maker. They had exactly four mugs in the cabinet, so Jean set them out on the counter while Jeremy got the pot started. On any other weekend, there was no chance Cat would stumble out of bed until at least ten, but they had a mile-long list of things to do today, and she needed to come along for part of it.
Jean put together an easy breakfast. Cat joined them only seconds after the coffee maker beeped, scrubbing at her eyes with clumsy fists. Jeremy glanced past her toward the bedroom door, and Cat only shook her head at the silent question in his stare. Even if Laila was awake, she wouldn’t be joining them. Jeremy quietly put her mug and the fourth plate away.
There was nowhere to sit, so they propped themselves against the counter to fuel up for the day. Jeremy ceded the first shower to Jean while he cleaned up the mess, and Cat poured what was left of the coffee between their two mugs. She considered the filter a moment as if tempted to start a second pot, then turned a serious stare on him.
“She’s not going to let you come back.”
It wasn’t a question, and they both knew the answer anyway. Jeremy drained his coffee in one go and set to work washing the mug. Cat leaned against his back, winding her arms around him in a slow, fierce hug. Her plaintive protest was muffled where she buried it against his back: “It’s not fair. Tell her we’d feel safer if you were here with us.” Jeremy didn’t have to say anything; Cat’s fingers went bruising as she added, “I know she doesn’t care, but...”
“It’s just for a few weeks,” Jeremy promised, with no confidence.
“We need you more than she does. She doesn’t deserve you.”