Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
I shook the man’s hand. “Nice to meet you, too.”
When he walked off, Lola nudged my ribs hard enough that I almost coughed. “Why did you do that?” I whispered on our way into the huge dining room off the foyer.
“You’re looking at them like you need to take a shit. They aren’t about to kill you and wear your skin.”
She knew me too well. “How the hell am I supposed to know they aren’t?” I glanced at the large dining table pre-set with nice china and way too many forks. Who needed that many forks? I placed my lips by her ear, inhaling her Country Peach smell. “This is really giving me some Hannibal Lecter vibes.”
“They’re nice. Be nice.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me over to the table, shoving me into one of the fancy chairs beside her.
Gracie sat on the other side of me, grabbing my hand as Mr. Lancaster stood at the head of the table. “Shall we pray?”
I leaned in beside Lola. “Lettuce pray.” This would be the first time in my life I actually had…
Gracie shushed me, then swiped her hand over my face, shutting my eyes as Mr. Lancaster/Daddy Warbucks went into a prayer about blessing food and nourishment and something about hands. And the second I took my first bite of food, I thought maybe I should start praying if I could eat shit like this every time.
***
When we got home after dinner, Lola went into the bathroom to shower, and I went to Zepp’s room.
He looked up from the drawing on his desk before the door shut behind me.
A stern frown set on his face as he leaned back in the desk chair. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
He nodded toward the hallway beyond the closed bedroom door. “She okay?”
I dragged a hand through my hair on a heavy breath. “I think so.”
She seemed fine, but then again, she’d seemed fine when nothing was. That knot of anxiety tightened my chest again, and I paced Zepp’s cluttered room. “I hate I got you involved in this shit.”
I stopped pacing and stared at the hula girl lamp on Zepp’s side table. It was fine. I knew it was. It had to be, but the stress of it was getting to me. Bad.
He sighed, tapping his pencil over the desk. “You didn’t get me involved in anything. She’s like my sister.”
Seconds passed when reality hit me hard. I hadn’t let Zepp do anything that could have gotten him in trouble, but he knew. He’d helped me figure out how to get away with it. Helped make sure Ethan and his mom were actually gone.
“I get it, Hendrix,” he said.
My attention snapped away from the lampshade to my brother’s stern frown. He stared down at his drawing with a creased brow.
“When you have someone who makes you want to live…You’ll do anything to make shit right. I intended to kill Harford with that baseball bat. Fate just didn’t let me.” His gaze met mine. “You made it right.” Then he picked up his pencil and swept the colored lead across the page. “One thing I learned in prison—everyone has their secrets.”
True. But some—ours—were just worse than others.
* * *
Chapter 43
LOLA
It was Christmas Eve, and for the first time since I could remember, I was excited about the holidays.
We’d made enough money at that last raffle to pay for the roof—the contractor would start in January—and even buy a Dickory Barns Ham and a few presents.
I’d just stuck the tape to the wrapping paper when footsteps pounded down the steps and entered the living room. I glanced over my shoulder at Hendrix, who I’d told to stay upstairs while I wrapped his present. He was like a kid.
“You’re lucky I just finished wrapping your present, or I’d have to dick punch you.”
He put his hand over his dick. “You would never wound my sword of valor. It’s Excalibur and you are my stone.”
“I am your stone… wow.”
“I mean it in a good way.” He brushed his hand through my hair, massaging my scalp. “A hot, wet stone that I want to plunge in and out of for the rest of my life.”
“Good.” I put the wrapped box under the tree.
The second I pushed to my feet, his arms came around me from behind, his lips skimming over my neck. “Come on, I need to show you something.”
“Now?” It was getting dark outside. And cold. “We’re supposed to watch a movie with Monroe and Zepp when they get back.”
“You know it’s going to be Human Centipede. Do you really want to watch that again?”
“No way. Monroe will veto that shit.”
“Gingers don't have a say. So, it’s ass-to-mouth stitching, or me and you and the dark.” He dragged me toward the front doorway, then pulled my jacket from the hook and thrust it at me. “It won’t take long.”