Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 173392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 867(@200wpm)___ 694(@250wpm)___ 578(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 173392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 867(@200wpm)___ 694(@250wpm)___ 578(@300wpm)
It doesn’t have to be a bad thing. We’d make sure she enjoyed it.
“Don’t tell me the idea of your older brothers having something you got to have first doesn’t turn you on,” I taunt him.
He stares at her as she dances, but then starts to walk away. “You’re a son of a bitch.”
He doesn’t look back at me, and I just smile. “Think about it,” I call out.
He keeps walking until he’s lost in the crowd.
I know Trace. He’s usually up for anything, and everything else he just needs time to warm up to.
I scan the crowd once more, spotting lots of Bay people and lots of Saints. Milo Price texts on his phone, and I take note of the cameras on the light posts and the drones flying around, catching footage that typically broadcasts on the town’s social media pages. Phone cameras are taking video, and the live cam at the top of the visitor’s center has a 360-degree lens I know is in full working order.
Anyone, no matter where they are in the world, can see us right now.
My body warms. Taking out my phone, I tap out a text.
I know you’re watching.
The message reads Delivered, then Read.
I smile, putting my phone away.
17
Krisjen
If only Iron were here, it would be a perfect day. I should go see him. Keep him connected, so he remembers why he has to come back. I sent off a care package yesterday with some food, a card filled with pictures of our roasted oyster night at Mariette’s and everyone’s signatures, and some magazines. I want to see his face, though. Make sure he’s not fighting.
“Thank you.” I take the bowl of chili and grab a plastic spoon, giving Mrs. Chadwick one last smile before walking away.
This is my favorite part of the Annual Bug Jam. The chili cook-off. There are at least a dozen tents filled with the scent of spices, some of the booths belonging to families with their secret recipes, and some businesses trying to connect with the community. The cotton candy booth is next. They have twenty-one flavors.
I stroll, seeing Dallas still sitting on his bike out in the parking lot, three women standing around him. I shake my head. Dude doesn’t even have to get up to get what he wants.
Trace has Dex on his shoulders, and I don’t see Army right now, but he mentioned wanting to go look at the cars on display.
I’m going back on Dallas’s motorcycle, though. That was fun. He was trying so hard to scare me, but I didn’t mind, because he wouldn’t purposely hurt himself just to hurt me. Like he wouldn’t deliberately crash the bike with us both on it.
But I hesitate, chewing on that thought for a second.
“Look at them, huh?”
I pop my head up, seeing Jerome Watson. My face falls. It didn’t even occur to me I’d see him today.
He half sits on the edge of his chili booth’s table, looking different in jeans. His flannel is tan, blue, and green, making him look more handsome than I like. A white apron is tied around his slim waist.
“There’s something admirable about how they’ve held on to the land this long.”
He doesn’t look at me, and I turn my head, following his gaze. Trace and Dex dance with Liv and Clay. Aracely gets in Dallas’s face, while he smokes another cigarette and is clearly trying not to laugh.
“I like survivors,” Jerome tells me. “No one can say the Jaegers aren’t resilient.”
I look back at him, the heat from the chili seeping through the bowl to my hand.
“But every year is the same for them, isn’t it?” he asks me. “Nothing changes. The battles, the turmoil, the same faces, the same bullshit, the same dirt roads and dilapidated houses … Things live in the Bay; nothing grows.”
I lock my jaw, breathing heavier. That’s not true. Jerome stands up, and I don’t back up as he slowly closes the distance between us.
He lowers his voice. “What will you do when you tire of their bodies and realize you didn’t know you’d miss having possibilities in life? Hmm?” He stares down at me. “A beautiful home? Being able to send your children to college and give them a future? Maybe opening your own business?” He cocks his head. “A children’s boutique,” he finally says. “I can see you running something like that. It’s cute, like you.”
I start to back away, but he grabs my hand and puts it on his chest.
“And I have a body, too,” he whispers.
I don’t have a chance to rip my hand away before someone takes it away from him and encloses me in his arms. I tense but look down and see the Tryst Six emblem on a leather bracelet. He locks me against his chest, his jaw resting against my head.