Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
I join him on the seawall and look out over the bay. It’s surrounded on all sides by mangroves. In the very center is a small overgrown island. The sun is setting. It’s eerily quiet. The only sound is the occasional burping frog or squawking bird. Unlike me, it’s so calm. Peaceful even.
“What exactly are we doing out here?” I ask Nine. “Won’t King and Ray mind that we’re trespassing on their property?”
“Trust me. King won’t mind. They aren’t home anyway.”
He glances at the flask in my hand. “Nice flask.”
“It’s Pikes. He gave it to me,” I tell him, tucking it into the elastic waistband of my shorts.
“Did he now…” His eyes linger on my exposed skin for a beat too long before he looks away. “What you said the other day, about Jared. I’ve been thinking about it.”
“What did I say exactly?” I ask raising my shoulders to my chin. “I remember hanging out with my friend Vodka, and she has a tendency to make things a wee bit fuzzy.”
Nine tilts his head to the side. The fading sun shining the day’s last light on his smooth, yet sharp jaw. “You were talking about how he left you alone. How you hated being left, and you were upset that he didn’t tell you that he was leaving.”
I remain silent. How he’s managed to come to know me so well confuses me but makes my heart swell. “I don’t care about Jared. I never did.”
“I didn’t say you did care. I said you were upset about being left alone, and it made me think that your buddy Vodka brought up some shit that you’re otherwise pushing down, but you should be able to feel however you need to feel to come out on the other side without visible scars. I don’t want the thought of Jared and what he did to stand between you and the rest of the fucking world.”
“He’s not between anything,” I insist. “The only things standing between me and the rest of the world is you. And not being able to leave the RV….” I think for a second. “Oh, and Ricci’s men.”
“Look, I read this book on anxiety,” he begins to say.
“When?” I ask, raising my eyebrows.
“Last night, when you were snoring away,” he smiles.
I roll my eyes. “I don’t snore.”
“Okay, we’ll call it an adorable purr, then. If it makes you feel better about it.”
I stick out my tongue like a child.
His voice depends. “Careful with that tongue, little bird, or I’ll put it to good use.”
My lips part at the suggestive nature of his words. I clear my throat and turn away from him to look back over the bay. “So, this book you read?” I press, pretending that his words didn’t just send shivers down my spine in the most delicious way.
“Basically, it said that when people pretend a problem or something from their pasts don’t exist, and they shove it down deep inside, it’s like packing ammo into a heated storage room. Eventually, it’s all going to explode. Trust me, I’ve been there, and now, I have nightmares because of it. With your anxiety, it might be worse for you. Maybe not now, but a week or a year down the line, and I don’t want you to have to go through that.”
My heart warms. He read a book on anxiety because of me. For me. My mom was the only one who ever attempted to understand me and the way I function because of anxiety. I’m...shocked. Confused. But also surprised, in a way that makes me eager to find out more about why exactly we are here right now.
“What do you recommend, Doctor Nine?” I purse my lips.
“I’ll show you. Hang on.” Nine jogs over to a plastic storage box nailed to the concrete seawall and opens it, retrieving a golf bag with a full set of golf clubs still inside.
“We’re golfing?” I ask, until I recognize the cheesy golf club cover things on the edge. Green with white pom-poms on top. “Wait, how do you have Jared’s golf clubs?”
“I broke back into the house to see if the movers left any of your clothes since you didn’t take much. They didn’t. But I stumbled upon these in the corner of the garage, and since all the pictures in his office are of him golfing I figured they were important to him, and therefore will work perfectly for our little exercise today.”
“Apparently they weren’t important enough to him to take with him,” I mutter bitterly. Too bitterly.
Nine gives me an I-told-you-so look. “Which brings me to today’s lesson, little bird.”
I wave my hands for him to continue.
“Closure,” Nine plucks a club from the bag. “You need closure.”
I cross my arms defensively over my chest. “I don’t need closure. I never even loved him. Am I pissed he left without warning and stole from me? Yes. Do I need closure on a relationship I never should have been in to begin with?” I shake my head. “Eh, not so much.”