Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 82094 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82094 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Once in the hall, I lean against the wall and stare down at my hands, trying to get my head to stop ringing like a bell. But Grandpa’s dismissal feels like a fever dream.
My family doesn’t care about me.
I knew that given the choice between me and the family, Grandpa would choose the family—but to hear it and see it play out right before my eyes is something else. A Greek mafia family wants to kill me, and Grandpa doesn’t seem to care, or at least he doesn’t care enough to make it a priority.
I shove myself from the wall and take a few steps forward. I make it to the front door without being stopped by anyone, and by the time I’m down the steps and heading toward the car waiting to drive me back to the house, I’m starting to tremble, and I’m afraid I might be sick.
Grandpa isn’t going to help me. He doesn’t care.
And the absolute worst part of that is, there’s something strangely liberating about that.
I don’t have money to fall back on, I don’t have family, I don’t have anything but what’s in front of me.
I have Carmine, and that’s it.
The idea is laughable and sad and I’m not sure how I’m going to survive it.
Chapter 14
Brice
“Two pools! Oh my god, you told me there were two pools but I really didn’t believe you until right now.”
“Four hot tubs too.” I pan across the back yard and grin to myself. Robyn’s laughter comes through my phone in heavy peals of glee. “I have no clue what the Arcs were thinking.”
“They were probably thinking that one pool and two hot tubs is nice and all, but imagine doubling that? How impressive would that be?”
“The rest of the place is equally insane.” I tell her about the opulence, the furniture, all the weird little details desperate to feel expensive instead of nice or practical. “It’s not what I would’ve bought, but it’s close to home and in a nice neighborhood, so I can’t complain too much.”
“At least you’re living in a mansion now instead of that little apartment.” Robyn grins at me on the screen. She’s back in her place in Austin, curled up on a couch near a bay window. The sun shines on my face and warmth rolls down my spine, and I try not to let thoughts of my grandfather intrude on this nice moment but I can’t help myself. Every time I think about my family, it’s like I’m Wile E. Coyote realizing there’s no ground under my feet.
I sip some iced tea Haleena made. It’s delicious with a bitter aftertaste, and when I asked her what her secret is, she only smiled and said vodka, and I genuinely don’t know if she was joking or not.
“The place is big and nice but it feels so empty.” I sit on a lounge chair and stretch. “I know, listen to me complain, right?”
“Where’s your future husband? I bet he makes it feel full.”
“If that’s a lewd commend, I will not engage with it.”
“Oh, come on, Brice. I know Carmine wasn’t your idea of a husband but you have to admit he’s good looking.”
I glance toward the house. “Yes, okay, he’s handsome.”
“He’s freaking devilishly handsome. He’s like one of those models you only ever see on TV, except he’s real and in the flesh and sleeps in your bed.”
I close my eyes. I don’t need to hear this right now. Fortunately, Carmine isn’t home at the moment—he’s off interviewing potential security companies—so I don’t have to worry about him overhearing.
Robyn’s right. As much as I hate it, she’s absolutely dead on—Carmine is gorgeous. He’s stupidly attractive in a way that should be shameful. He makes me feel things I never dreamed I’d feel, like when his mouth is down between my legs doing things—
I feel flushed all of a sudden and Robyn laughs. “You’re blushing!” she says.
“I’m not, it’s just hot out here right now. It’s freaking Texas, remember?”
“Come on, tell me you and Carmine haven’t at least—I don’t know, dry humped or something?”
“We haven’t dry humped,” I say, making a face, which is totally true. We haven’t dry humped. We’ve done other things but I’m not about to tell her that.
Robyn’s expression gets a little contemplative as she looks at something off-camera. “I know this hard for you, Brice. I mean, I remember what he was like in college. Remember that softball game? The one where he freaking tackled you?”
“I can’t forget it.”
“Everyone hated him for like a few weeks after that. Who the hell would tackle you, of all people? You’re so sweet.”
“I don’t feel sweet.”
“Whatever, you are, and he was such a dick. But he’s got to be older and better now, right? Or at least less of a bastard.”
“I’m not sure if he’s changed much at all. Except he hasn’t tackled me. Yet, anyway.”