Total pages in book: 150
Estimated words: 136791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
"I installed a few cameras," I mumble, pulling up the app to access them on my phone.
"When?" she asks, her eyes narrowing to little slits.
"Last night."
She huffs but doesn't say anything further on the subject. She wanders away instead, going back to her car to get her shit out of it. I keep one eye on her while I navigate my way around the app, rewinding the cameras to see what they managed to catch. The kid from LAPD comes back outside while I'm rewinding the last few hours of footage.
He and Santiago talk back and forth before Santiago basically tells him to eat a dick and go home, that the DEA is handling this since I'm one of theirs. The kid gets all offended, but eventually, his dispatcher calls for backing units for a shooting about a mile away. He beats feet back to his car and heads out.
"Can I go inside?" January asks.
"Yeah, little monster," I murmur, glancing up at her. Sadness and stress hang heavily around her, making her seem fragile and stretched thin. "Just leave the glass there. We'll clean it up when we're done out here. I don't want you getting cut."
"Okay." She nods and heads inside, leaving the front door open.
A couple of minutes later, I found what I'm looking for. I hit play and watch as two pricks in Grecian Guardian cuts sneak from Ma Lucia's property onto January's. One is mid-twenties. The other looks like he's maybe nineteen or twenty, tops. The youngest peers around like he expects to be caught any minute. The other doesn't even blink as he cocks his arm back and launches one rock and then the other.
A few seconds later, they both run off the frame.
"You recognize either of them?" Santiago asks when I replay it for him.
I shake my head.
"Roman said you were working a case on Kaleo. I'm guessing you want to deal with this yourself?" he asks me.
"Yeah. Just file whatever report you need to file for the insurance claim, and I'll take care of it," I tell him.
"I'll go take a couple of pictures of the damage at your place and get the fuck out of your hair." Santiago pulls a business card out of his pocket before handing it over to me. "Send the camera footage to me when you get a chance and I'll make sure it's added to the file in case you decide you want to pursue charges later."
"Thanks, Santiago."
It takes Santiago all of twenty minutes to get what he needs. Once he leaves, I linger outside, reluctant to face January when I know she's pissed about the cameras. When I know she deserves the answers she desperately wants. I make a couple of calls to get Ma Lucia's place shored up until I can get someone out tomorrow to replace the windows and door.
Once that's done, I quickly gather my shit into my duffle and then make my way next door to January's. Until I can get her windows fixed tomorrow, I'm camping out on her couch. She'll probably fight me on it, but I'm not leaving her alone with her windows busted out.
I don't want to leave her alone at all. Ever. Maybe, if I'd never found out the last seven years were hell for her, I could go on living without her. I could sentence myself to that pain because it's what I deserve…but I can't do that to her. She struggled through every day without me. I can't put her through that again.
Even when she inevitably kicks me out of here, I won't go far. So long as she needs me, I'm hers.
"Hey," she says, looking up from the couch when I stop in the doorway. She's changed into yoga pants and a UCLA hoodie and has her hair thrown up in a messy bun. There's a little furrow between her brows and her eyes are dark beneath, like she hasn't been sleeping much either.
The broken glass is gone. So are the rocks.
"I told you I'd deal with the mess," I mutter. She never listens. Ever since she was a little girl, she's been stubborn as hell. It's endearing and frustrating as fuck at the same time.
"It was just a bit of broken glass," she says, her voice soft. "You had other things to do. Besides, cleaning it up was easier than sitting here and stewing."
"I'm not going to apologize for the cameras. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about them, but I'm not sorry for putting them up." I drop my bag by the credenza table and step over the threshold, pushing the front door closed with my foot. "Kaleo is dangerous. I don't want you getting hurt."
"I'm not mad about the cameras."
"You're not?" I ask, suspicious as hell.
"I want to be," she admits, "but I know you're only trying to watch out for me. After this, I guess I understand why you thought they were necessary. I'm sorry he destroyed Ma Lucia's house."