Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 157140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Her chest rises and falls. “Okay. But Troy said—”
“Troy doesn’t know his ass from his mouth.” Fuck. Why the hell have they been talking about me? About Aster? And what the hell else has my supposed friend been feeding Eliza and Destiny? My blood feels like acid, burning me from the inside out. “Perhaps you’re right to be concerned. We’ve fallen too hard, too fucking fast.”
“Cole, no! I—”
She reaches for me, but I stiffen, holding up a hand.
“Don’t. And don’t talk to me about my dead wife again until I tell you some facts.”
Her lips tremble. She nods, but I see the way she quivers as she turns, how she wipes a hot tear from her cheek before she can speak.
“I...I know. I won’t. I shouldn’t have blurted it out. I knew you’d be hurt, and for good reason... But hearing you say it out loud makes it way more real.” She pauses, waiting for me to say more, to hug her, but I don’t.
The gulf between us feels a mile wide.
I loathe it.
I’d rather have a hole in my head.
“Well...if you’ll excuse me, I have work to finish,” she whispers.
I glance at my watch. “You can’t be here after security changes over. It’s against policy now. You have less than fifteen minutes to clean up.”
“Oh, so we care about corporate policies now?” Hurt sarcasm drips from her voice.
“I won’t have you or anyone else here alone past ten. You know that,” I say coldly.
“And I’d rather not have you in this lab at all, but here you are.”
My fingers form a fist, and I bang it softly against my thigh. I just can’t stop the train wreck rolling out of my mouth.
“Why do you have to be so goddamned difficult?” I growl.
“Mr. Lancaster, you’re distracting me from my job. It’s after hours and I’m tired. Please just—get out. Get out of my workspace.”
It’s surreal, watching yourself fuck everything up without an easy way to un-fuck it.
“Don’t make this personal,” I whisper. “It’s a simple safety precaution. If something ever happened to you...” I pause, inhaling air that scalds my lungs. “I’d never forgive myself. Never, Eliza.”
“What difference does it make? You shouldn’t have let me in, remember?”
Fucking hell.
The worst part is knowing this wretched case of foot-in-mouth disease was so preventable.
Before I do more damage, I storm out of the lab.
Tom waits for me patiently with the car, and I throw myself inside of it without another word.
Amazingly, tonight’s blue balls are the least of my worries.
I should’ve known better than to get mixed up with an employee.
I damn well should’ve known better than to reconnect with old friends.
Why the fuck did Troy have to squawk about Aster at all? When the sensation to stab him in the throat slightly fades, I call him from the back seat Bluetooth setup.
“Cole? It’s late, man, what’s up?”
“Are you still up?” I bite off.
“Yeah...what’s up?”
“Meet me at my house ASAP. It might take me a few minutes to get there. I’m leaving the office now.”
“Okay, sure. No problem. Is everything okay? You sound really—”
“Just come, Troy. We’ll discuss it then.”
Thirty minutes later, I overfill two large glasses with brandy and hand one to Troy.
He sits on my black leather sofa in an oversized island shirt with a blank expression. His usual shitty grin was wiped off his face the moment he stepped through the door.
I could smell the stink of whisky on him, and it brings me some small pleasure to know I tore him away from the bar downtown and his next hookup tonight.
Still, he gives me that kicked puppy look I hate when I hand him his damn drink.
“Cole...I’m sorry I let too much slip. I didn’t mean to tell her point blank that Aster killed herself, and I definitely never expected her to hassle you about it.”
My eyebrows go up sharply.
“...it’s your business. Family business. I get it. I really screwed the pooch and I’m sorry.” He hangs his head, staring into his drink.
Am I being too hard on him?
He’s never been anything but supportive since the night he saved me from a knife fight in Manila on leave. If he hadn’t been there to drag my drunk ass away from four nasty guys I’d gotten into an argument with, I might’ve never had Aster or Destiny or Eliza to worry about at all.
There’s also no denying how strange Aster’s end was, how it’s given me nothing but questions.
I sigh, rolling my shoulders.
“Whatever. It’s not your fault,” I mutter, taking a pull off my drink. “It’s not even Eliza’s. I should’ve laid my cards out before anything happened with her.”
Sympathy shines in his eyes. “Man, you just need to open up with her. Have a heart-to-heart. Tell her the truth without holding anything back.”
“I can’t.”
Troy gulps his brandy and sets the glass down with a thunk.