Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 75193 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75193 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
“When our dad died, my brother put college on hold to stay home and raise me,” she laughed. “Not that I had very long to go. He was with me for six months before I followed him down to the tech school in Marshall,” she smiled, putting another strand of lights onto the strand we were hanging up before she continued. “He graduated and I started at East Texas Baptist University that next semester. When we were both finally graduated, we came back home and lived near each other ever since. He let me have our old house while he found a rental that he was able to buy next door.”
She pointed at the house.
“I’m just not ready to go over there.” She shook her head. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”
“I need to tell you something,” I reached up to hang a strand in a particular spot that she couldn’t get to without her asking me to.
Her breath sighed out.
Breathing in deeply, I turned to look at her.
“I know your sister was the one with my brother,” she blurted before I could find the words.
My breath left me in a whoosh.
“I’m so sorry,” I apologized. “I was the one who asked him to go with her.”
“You were also the one who let him have rides on your old motorcycle,” she smiled, mirth starting to swim in her eyes.
I barked out a laugh.
“He was so sure that you didn’t know,” I informed her once I caught my breath. “He told me that you’d freak out if you knew he was riding it.”
She shrugged.
“My dad killed himself on his bike,” she murmured. “When the cancer got really bad, he took off for ‘one last ride’ and the next thing we knew the police officers were at the door to tell us he’d died in an accident.”
I swallowed.
“I’m sorry,” I licked my lips. “I didn’t realize.”
She waved away the apology.
“I was just explaining why it hurt to know he was riding the bike, not that I would have ever told him he couldn’t do it or used his sympathy against him,” she explained. “He was happy, and I would’ve done anything to see him smile.”
We worked in companionable silence from then on, occasionally saying ‘here’ or ‘hold that.’
Otherwise, though, not a word was spoken and I found that I liked it.
My mind, however, was reeling as I thought about what I was going to say to her about earlier when she’d gotten home from work.
But my courage escaped me as I finished off the last of the lights.
She saved me the effort as she said, “I’m okay.”
I blinked, turning to her as I nervously brushed my hands off on my pants.
“Okay,” I replied. “Are you sure?”
She nodded. “I wasn’t, but I’m okay now.”
I was appeased, and I offered her my hand, not knowing what else to do.
“You can call me anytime you want,” I offered her my card.
She took it and shoved it into her pocket, smiling up at me.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “Are you leaving?”
I pointed at my arm.
“It hurts,” I admitted.
Her mouth dropped open.
“I forgot!” She gasped. “Why didn’t you leave already?”
She was looking at my arm, which was covered by the sleeve of the jacket Apple had brought me earlier out of his truck.
“I’m fine,” I said. “I know my limits.”
She snorted. “I’m sure you do, don’t you?”
I nodded and bent down, scratching Sharpy’s head in farewell.
His jowls scrunched and lengthened as I scratched him, and I laughed long and loud at the sight before I stood back up and started walking to my bike.
“Don’t hesitate to use that number, Freya,” I told her as I walked away.
“I won’t,” was the last thing I heard before the roar of my bike started up, drowning out everything else.
I could still feel my hammering heart, though, and I knew this wouldn’t be the last time I saw the woman.
I would guaran-damn-tee it.
Chapter 2
Hitting the gym to release stress is not nearly as fun as hitting the people that caused the stress to begin with.
-Note to self
Ridley
Things had to look up, didn’t they?
I certainly would’ve hoped so, but it was immediately apparent, as soon as I saw my brother’s car parked next to my curb, that it wasn’t going to be.
“Mother fucker,” I growled as I pulled into my drive, rode up to the front walk, and parked my bike underneath the overhang.
As I shut it off, my mind started to race with the possibilities of why my brother could possibly be here.
My brother, my twin brother actually, was my polar opposite.
Where I live my life fighting crime, he lives his committing crimes.
Where I was once a family man, he’d gotten four women pregnant within a two-year period. He now had four kids, ranging from four- to six-years-old, all by different women.