Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 156808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 784(@200wpm)___ 627(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 784(@200wpm)___ 627(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
Straightening in his seat, he took a closer look at his surroundings. “We’re in my neighborhood?”
“Yeah,” Arik said, knocking the gear into neutral as he swung the sports car into his driveway and stopped directly behind his van.
“Oh. Okay,” he said, sitting up even straighter. For some reason, he had thought they were going to dinner.
“Didn’t you want to clean?” Arik questioned, releasing his hand to turn off the ignition.
“Oh. Yeah, that’s good.” His fuzzy brain seemed a step behind, and he tried hard to catch up. He’d completely forgotten about his house, about everything really.
“What?” Arik asked, looking over at him, questioning what was really going on.
“Nothing at all. I’m just relaxed,” he replied and gave a giant yawn to prove his point.
“Good. I can still taste you in my mouth,” Arik said, pulling him in for a soft, lingering kiss before pushing his door open. “Iris finalized plans. We’ll be leaving on Sunday, so we have a lot to get done.”
“Next Sunday?” Kellus asked as he got out of the car.
“Yep,” Arik said, reaching for a bag in the small compartment behind the seat. “I also got the proposal for upgrading your security system. I want to show you before I approve it, but my team’s been clear that they’d prefer to monitor it—not turn it over to your security company.”
“Why’s that?” Kellus inquired as he rounded the hood of the car. He stopped and waited for Arik before walking toward the house.
“Our response times are immediate where your company is a bit slower—still good, just slower. They try to call you, then wait a certain amount of time before calling the police. We don’t mind taking every threat seriously,” Arik explained, draping his satchel over his shoulder.
“I don’t want to be a burden,” Kellus replied, digging in his pocket for the house keys.
“You’re not. It’s simpler to just let them handle it.”
Kellus moved to the front door, thinking over that bit of information. There was still a fear of where he’d be when Arik pulled the plug on them, but after the last twenty-four hours, something as minute as a security system seemed inconsequential with all this emotion overloading his heart. Kellus pushed the key in, unlocked the door, and shoved it wide before moving aside to let Arik go first.
“You started already?” Arik asked, stopping once he got into the living room.
“I did a little this morning. Trash pickup was today, so I got the crap in the backyard and the living room out on the curb before they came. They agreed to haul off some of the broken furniture for me if I’d help toss it inside the garbage truck,” he said, moving past Arik. He tossed his keys on the kitchen counter and plugged his phone into the wall to charge.
“I don’t mind helping at night so you can work during the day,” Arik said from behind him. “I need to change. Can I go back there?”
“Sure. It’s still a mess. My bedroom’s the last door on the right. I can call and order a pizza. Does that sound okay?”
“That’s great. I like pepperoni and pineapple,” Arik called back before disappearing into his room. Kellus picked up his phone to place the order. Of course Arik would like those toppings with his giant sweet tooth.
Three hours later, Kellus dumped the empty pizza box into the partially full trash bag laying in the living room, when he heard a disgusted groan coming from the guest bathroom down the hall. He quickly tied the trash bag closed before going back to that room.
“What are you doing?”
“This is disgusting,” Arik angrily grumbled, jerking his head up at him when he entered the small space. Kellus didn’t know whether to laugh or grab his phone and take a picture. Arik Layne, hotelier extraordinaire was crouched on the filthy bathroom floor with a pair of bright yellow kitchen gloves on his hands and extending up his arms. In one hand, he held a towel over his nose and mouth, and in the other, a long cleaning scrub brush that, in a stilted motion, he guided along the floor surrounding the toilet. He’d picked up everything else in the room, meaning he’d stuffed the shower curtain and destroyed towel rods into one of the industrial-sized black trash bags in the corner.
“I’ll do that. You don’t have to.”
Bad things had gone down in this bathroom. Probably worse than anywhere else in the house. It was the main reason he’d just shut the door, deciding to do this room last while armed with lots of bleach and a face mask.
Moving the towel only inches away from his face, Arik said, “Even drunk, how can you not find a hole this big?” Arik stared at the toilet then gave a dramatic, full-body, lurching dry heave.