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)
Like we’re four, best friends, and our moms are bathing us together.
He starts shampooing his hair, and I grab my loofah, lathering it with soap. I hurriedly wash my arms, the back of my neck, my stomach, and my breasts, and I look up to see him watching that part. He grins, and I drop my eyes again to see he’s hardening.
I turn away.
“You can look,” he teases. “I know I’m bigger than Army. Iron, too.”
Whatever.
“I am, aren’t I?” he coos.
Ugh.
I face the other way, placing my foot on the edge of the tub and soaping my leg before doing the same with the other one. We switch places, and I rinse, taking the showerhead and washing off my back. He reaches around me to rinse off his hands.
And he stays there, at my back. “I love you, you know?” he says.
I go still.
“You were really good to me.” He takes the showerhead and rinses my spine and the backs of my arms. “I loved how your face would light up and you smiled all the time, and I really needed someone to smile at me. I acted like it was nothing, but you’re irreplaceable.”
My heart warms, my chin trembling a little.
“I’m glad it’s him,” he sighs, planting a peck on my temple. “Army is good. He’s not stupid enough to let you go.”
I hang the loofah from a hook, and he replaces the shower-head.
I smile to myself, joking, “Well, he knew I’d be a good waitress. I bet you’re glad he had the bright idea to offer me a job. Now you get to see me every day.”
He chuckles, sliding open the shower curtain again.
I turn off the water.
“That was Macon, actually,” he says.
I pause, and he steps out, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his waist.
“What?” I whisper.
He nods. “Yeah, he was the one who sent Army after you that night. He told him to bring you back.”
He tosses me a towel, and I catch it, but I’m staring at the floor. Why didn’t Army tell me that?
“And I am so glad he always does what our big brother tells him to do.”
I faintly hear him laugh, and then he’s gone.
Lost in thought, I leave the bathroom in my towel, get in my pajamas, and take the pins out of my hair, letting the locks fall down my back.
I stand at the window, watching Macon outside in the darkness as he moves through the ruins of the old wing.
There are a dozen reasons why he could’ve wanted me here. None of them have to be because he likes me. The one thing I do know is that he’s a mystery to everyone, especially to the people who know him.
I follow him from Liv’s window to the one in Army’s room as he wanders, the moonlight making the overgrown weeds and palms look blue around him.
I haven’t seen him since the compressor earlier today.
He stands under a rafter, on an old section of flooring made of broken clay that reveals patches of wood and cement underneath. Still and quiet, he stares off like he does all the time.
But then I notice how he cocks his head.
Like he sees something in the darkness.
I follow his gaze, but I see nothing from here. He takes a step, and then another, slow and soft, and then … in one quick whirl, Army rushes up with a stick or a branch and sweeps it across the ground. A snake jumps two feet from where Macon stands, and I suck in a breath, hearing Army yell, even through the glass.
“Jesus Christ, man!” he bellows at his brother. “What the fuck?” Macon stands there.
“Macon?” Army shakes his shoulder. “You okay? What are you doing?”
Army’s worried expression searches his brother’s face, and I can see how hard he’s breathing. I don’t think
Macon’s pulse has changed.
I swallow hard. I can’t move.
He cares more about their lives than he ever did his own.
The guys think I went to work. I wait in Liv’s room until I see all the trucks make their way down the road, in the direction of St. Carmen, and then wait at the door with my hand on the knob.
I listen for him.
Something slams downstairs, and I feel the garage door vibrate through the house. Another door closes. Maybe the kitchen door. He probably needed a drink.
Then, there’s no more noise. I wait another minute or so, confident Macon’s in the garage, beginning his day’s work.
Slipping out of Liv’s room, I head over to his bedroom. I don’t know why I tiptoe. Stopping short, I pluck a few clean, folded towels out of the hallway closet. If he catches me, I’ll just tell him I was stocking his bathroom.
Stepping into his room, I quickly close the door behind me. And I look around, feeling immediately stupid.