Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68391 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68391 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
“I’m sorry, Sandy, but maybe you should come back when Calvin is home and talk to him about this.”
“It’s too late.” She starts to pace back and forth as pink spreads up her cheeks. “It’s too late to tell him how I feel. I’ve already done too much. I-I-I didn’t mean to . . . I just wanted his attention and thought that if he had a reason to spend time with me, he’d finally feel what I feel. He will never love me now. He won’t love me now, but that’s okay. It’s okay—we have the next lifetime to get it right.” She locks eyes with me. “That’s how it works, you know.”
“How what works?” I ask, my voice shaking as I spot my phone on the counter across the kitchen and move closer to it as Bane’s barking gets louder.
“Soul mates—you meet them in each lifetime, over and over and over and over. You just have to be able to recognize them. He didn’t recognize me this time, but next time I’ll make sure he does . . . I’ll make sure.”
Oh God, she’s crazy.
“Sandy, I think . . .” I lick my lips nervously. “I think you should leave and come back when Calvin is home and explain all this to him.”
“He’ll be here,” she says, taking her purse off her shoulder and pulling something out of it before dropping her bag to the floor. “He’s a good cop. He’ll figure out it was me and go to my house and see my note. He’ll be here.” She glares at the back door. “I can’t think with that barking.”
“What are you doing?” I rush toward her when she walks toward the back door, but then she turns and lifts her arm, and that’s when I see the gun. It’s so small that it almost looks fake, but I know it’s not. It’s the same type of gun Lucy used to carry in her purse.
“Don’t come any closer,” she demands, and every inch of me freezes in fear.
“Okay. It’s okay.” I hold my hands up in front of me. “I won’t move, I promise. I won’t move, but don’t open that door. Bane is just a puppy, and he’s excited that someone is here and wants to come in to say hello. He doesn’t know any better.” My voice hitches as tears clog my throat.
“Tell him to shut up.” She raises the gun higher and aims at the center of my chest.
I close my eyes as a tear tracks down my cheek; then I pray that Bane listens. “Bane!” I shout as loud as I can, and he stops barking at the sound of my voice. “Quiet, and place,” I order, and he must be obeying because the barking doesn’t start back up. I take a breath and remind myself that she’s right about one thing: Calvin is a good cop, so he’ll be here soon.
“Calvin is my soul mate,” she says suddenly, and I open my eyes and watch her rip her hand through her hair.
“I know,” I whisper in agreement when I see her finger press down on the trigger ever so slightly.
“I don’t want to do this, but I need to be with him. I should be with him, not you.” Her hand starts to shake, and my heart pounds. “I don’t like hurting people.”
“You don’t have to hurt anyone.” My voice is barely above a whisper as I stare down the barrel of the gun pointed at me. “Calvin wouldn’t want you to hurt anyone. He’d never want you to hurt anyone.”
“I know.” Her chin wobbles; then her eyes and the hand holding the gun fly to the side when the doorbell rings. “Who is that?”
“I . . . I don’t know.” I swipe away the tears on my cheeks as I attempt to breathe.
“Get rid of them,” she hisses, and I whimper in fear when she swings the gun back in my direction. “Now.”
I jump and hold up my hands. “Okay . . . just please don’t point that at me,” I beg, and she lowers it to her side, then glares at me when the doorbell rings once more, and Bane starts to bark again.
I walk down the hall with my heart pounding, feeling her right behind me, then stop when she presses the gun into my lower back and places her mouth close to my ear. “Do not be stupid.” I nod, unable to speak, then let out the breath I’m holding when she takes a step back.
With my hand shaking I open the door and attempt to smile at the woman in a navy-blue pantsuit with a briefcase in her hand whose eyes latch onto mine. “Ca . . . can I help you?”
“I’m Amanda from Custom Designs, and I have a meeting scheduled with . . .” She glances at the iPad in her hands. “Calvin Miller.”