Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
I push off the counter. “Psshhh. Please. Don’t play that innocent act with me.”
She shuffles away from both of us, disappearing the way Malyk entered. As soon as she’s out of earshot, I find Sparrow. “She seem a little too fucking not at all sad about her mother to you?”
“Yeah.” Sparrow shrugs, taking a sip of his coffee. He clenches his jaw and watches as she picks up her board on the grass and makes her way to the water. “It’s probably just how she’s coping with it. She was upset when it happened, and she doesn’t know it’s a murder.”
Sparrow dumps out the rest of his coffee and places his cup in the dishwasher before turning to me. “You ready?”
“Always.” I blink past what I know is coming. “But after this—and by this, I mean all of this”—I wave my hand between him and me and her—“I need to go back on tour. It’s been too long since I’ve released new music, and my fans are getting loud about it.”
“You can’t walk out—”
“—not that!” I snap, running my hand down the side of my cheek. “That, I am well aware of. I’m talking about this, her. Once it’s done, I need to leave for a bit.”
We both turn to watch through the bay window that gives a direct view of the endless ocean. “You think she’s got it in her?”
Sparrow answers instantly. “Yes. I’ve seen it more so over the past few days.”
“So, you think it’s her?”
Sparrow winces, his eyes squinting at the sides as he brings them to mine. “Without a shadow of a doubt.”
A figure zipped through the trees, and I paused, one leg over the edge as I made my way down to the dinghy.
“Who was that?” I yelped, jumping down into the boat.
A hand came to mine, shoving me down onto his lap as he bit the back of my ear. “No one.” His hand grazed up my thigh and my eyes drifted closed, desperate to feel him.
Shiloh
I haven’t seen Malyk again since he left for the night, and I didn’t want to ask about the story with Sparrow and Dion around since I’m not sure if my promise to not tell anyone includes them, and before I could ask him, they were all gone. Poof. Left.
I stare back at the blank TV that hangs on the living room wall. Should I just text and ask him? It’s kind of like being left on a brutal cliff-hanger from your favorite show or book. I need to know what happened to the boy next.
I tap the screen on my phone, skipping past the empty group chat and going straight for his number. I open a message.
Will you tell me the rest of the story?
Before I can blink, there’s a response.
When I get home, I’ll tell you.
I tap out another reply, and before I can stop myself, I hit send.
Was it fact or fiction?
My stomach flutters with butterflies as another text comes through.
What did I say about that?
I roll my eyes and punch out another text.
I know, I know…but I have to find out what happens.
He reads my text but doesn’t reply, just as Cooper and Dani enter, both flopping down onto the end of the large L-curved sofa.
“Who is coming, do you know?” Cooper asks, playing with Dani’s long black hair.
“I don’t.” Panic grips me. “What if they’re weird? Or I don’t like them, or if—”
“We’re here.” Daniella’s hand rests on my knee before realizing what she has done. “I mean”—she pulls away from me—“Cooper is here, and I’m just a text away.” There have been times in my life when I have been grateful for just having Cooper in my life. This is not one of those times.
My shoulders relax, and I smile at her. “Thanks, Dani. There’s a best friend opening coming up. Would you like to apply?”
She giggles, and Cooper’s eyes turn to skinny slits. “Watch it.”
“I’m going to roll up some weed.” She bounces off the sofa, and I flash her a smile as she heads back upstairs.
I open my mouth to cuss out Cooper when I hear the front door open and shut.
“Hello!” a woman’s voice bellows through the old, withered walls. “Oh God, Sparrow. You could have got it—”
The voice gets clearer and clearer until two women round the corner, stopping at the top of the steps. The one who was talking, I’m presuming, closes her mouth and looks me up and down before barreling down the distance between us.
“Shiloh St. Claire!” She’s an older woman with gray hair that flows around her shoulder blades. Coffee-colored, slightly heavy eyes study me closely, and her little mouth opens and closes a few times. “You are just stunning, darling!”
She places her hands on either shoulder and kisses both sides of my face. Up close, I can see the resemblance to Sparrow. Not obvious, but it is the eye shape…the eyes tell it all.