Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
“He didn’t hurt you?” Dad asks, his hands roaming my body to check for injuries.
I manage to shake my head, but that’s about all I can handle right now. When I turn, my eyes searching for Landon, I notice many of the people have filtered out and Sophia is no longer across the room.
Then a second pair of arms, these smaller but filled with just as much love, encircle me. There are a million things I could say to Sophia right now, but my mouth doesn’t seem to work for anything more than the continued sobs that show no sign of stopping.
The three of us embrace, and for the first time in my life, I feel as if I have a set of parents rather than a single father doing his best and feeling guilty for being unable to give me the full American dream.
“Shh,” Sophia whispers when my dad sucks in a jagged breath. “We’re fine. We’re safe.”
“I’m smothered,” I joke as I take a step back, knowing the two of them need a moment together.
My father is the strongest man I know, but he’s also a homicide detective and I know it gets to him. The tears leaking from his eyes aren’t the first I’ve ever seen fall, but these rock me to my core. He was at the risk of losing his only child and the woman he clearly loves. That has to take a toll on a man.
“I’m going to stay with Landon tonight,” I say.
“Like hell—”
“I think that’s a great idea. He’ll be safe on Cerberus property,” Dustin, Landon’s dad, says as he steps closer to us. “I imagine you two are going to need some time alone.”
I look to Dustin to argue, wondering what response I wasn’t able to cover where my best friend is concerned to make him realize I’m in love with his son, but I quickly realize he’s referring to Dad and Sophia.
“Landon needs me,” I argue, knowing full well it’s me that needs him.
My dad’s eyes dart from me to my best friend, but he doesn’t voice his suspicions. He simply nods his head before taking a step further and wrapping his arms around me once again.
I groan in irritation, a fake response, the way I’m expected to react, but I hold him tighter.
“Be safe,” Dad whispers. “Call me if you need me.”
“I will, Dad,” I quickly agree, taking a step back in an effort to keep my tears from renewing.
After another quick nod, I walk away with Landon and his dad.
Had I known what other tragedy would happen tonight, I would’ve stayed at my house.
The dead man on the living room floor is less terrifying than the fuse I lit that blew up my lifelong friendship with Landon Andrews.
Chapter 1
Landon
Summer Before Senior Year of College
It’s easier to blame my irritation on waiting for Rick right now, but I’m annoyed by just about everything these days.
I should be smiling, laughing, joking.
When I take a step back and look at my life, I can admit it’s a pretty great one.
Baseball is going amazing, and talk around the dugout is that I’ll have no problem being drafted.
Although I’m finicky when it comes to women, there’s never a shortage of them willing and ready to give me a confidence boost.
I passed all my classes for my junior year at Lindell University.
Still, I’m snarly and hard to be around.
That declaration came yesterday from Silas Fawkes, another guy on our team.
“I’m not acting like a complete dick,” I mutter, still pissed at the guy for calling me on my shit.
With more effort than required, I click out of the social media app on my phone and take a look around.
Campus is as pristine and perfect as it always is. The small college town of Lindell is picture perfect, filled with a cast of characters right out of a romantic comedy.
I’m not feeling the humor of my surroundings currently as I wait for the man that everyone back home thinks is my best friend. The threads that held us together, that made us inseparable, were severed years ago. We shared a tragic night together, only for him to turn around and make things worse.
I grind my teeth as I notice the man in question walking toward me, the handle of a suitcase in each fist. Despite having a more than fourteen-hour drive back home, he has no sense of urgency. I learned not to expect much from him long ago.
“Ready to go?” he asks in a chipper tone that would make me want to knock the smile off his face if I didn’t know him well enough to see he’s not looking forward to this trip any more than I am.
I bite my tongue against complaining about standing out here in the Texas summer heat for the last twenty minutes. The very last thing I need is for him to think I give a shit about where he’s been and what he was doing rather than us getting the early start he insisted on through text last night.