Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 67675 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67675 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
I had no business feeling anything for Cami anymore.
I’d already made that mistake once.
14
CAMI
I couldn’t sleep that night.
It wasn’t the bed. Normally, I could sleep anywhere. Luxury plush mattresses in the Four Seasons. Bedrolls that provided only the thinnest layer of cushioning between my spine and the hard ground beneath. It didn’t matter.
But tonight, lying on the perfectly comfortable mattress underneath the Charlotte Thomas Bespoke sheets and the eiderdown comforter, I couldn’t sleep at all.
I rolled to one side and stared out the window. This high up, I couldn’t see the multitude of lights that made up the cityscape, but I knew they were down there because the sky glowed an eerie reddish gray. In the distance though, I could see the darkness of the hills beyond the city limits. While I stared into it, waiting for sleep, I thought longingly of Casey’s bungalow. I’d always slept like a baby tucked away up there, folded in velvety darkness.
After what felt like an hour, I rolled to my other side and stared at my bedroom door. I always slept with it cracked in case Emma wanted to creep in in the middle of the night. Now the edge of the door rested against the frame, unlatched, but with only the thinnest margin of an opening. I stared into that dark sliver, imagining it widening. Imagining, at first, a faceless stranger looking in at me, hating me for what my family had done to his.
My heart quickened unpleasantly. No, that wouldn’t happen. I was in the safest place in the city. It might make me claustrophobic and mad for the sight of color, but I was safe here. Even if Spiderman himself did manage to climb the building, hellbent on getting Aunt May’s life savings back from the Lavignes, Landon was right across the hall.
My mind snagged on that fact and marveled at it. Landon was right across the hall. After years of wondering what he was doing and who he was with, now I knew. He was still sleeping alone. I fought the insane urge to get out of bed, tiptoe over the cold floorboards, and creep across the hall. My imagination widened that dark sliver, showed me Landon’s palm flush against the door, his pale green eyes gleaming in the darkness.
He doesn’t look safe, Casey had said.
She had no idea that was part of the appeal.
I tossed onto my back. Stared at the ceiling. Turned back to the window. Finally, I kicked the comforter off and slipped out of bed. Not to go to Landon’s room, though. I pulled my robe around me and crept into the kitchen. I hadn’t eaten much at dinner. I’d been too busy cautioning Emma not to take too big of bites, then I’d been distracted by how wonderful Landon was with her. Like he was born to be a dad.
As I eased his refrigerator door open, trying not to make the glass bottles in the shelves rattle as I did so, I wondered about that. Landon had been so adamant he never wanted to be a father, but he was a natural at it. Kind, patient, self-effacing. He’d read Emma The Pout Pout Fish with a strange solemnity that made her laugh more than my melodramatic recitations ever had.
I reached into the cold, bright white-blue interior of the refrigerator and pulled out the wrapped remainder of the Colby Jack cheese. Part of me wanted a grilled cheese just like Landon had made Emma. Gooey, with the white and gold edges oozing over the sides of the thick, crusty bread. I would settle for eating a few slices though, rather than wake up the whole house rattling pans on the stove.
I left the refrigerator door open to use as a light while I hunted for a knife. I’d just pulled one free of the butcher block when, suddenly, the refrigerator door shut, plunging the room into darkness.
My heart leapt into my throat, and my hand tightened on the blade as I whirled around. My brain didn’t have time to form a theory or a plan before the light over the stove switched on, and I saw Landon standing over it, his hand pulling back, his face turning toward me, frowning.
“That’s not good for the refrigerator,” he said, his voice normal, as though I hadn’t been about to run him through with a six-inch blade.
“Holy shit,” I exploded quietly. I set the knife down on the counter, far away just in case the urge to stab him returned and leaned against it. My heart was still slamming an irregular rhythm into my ribs. “Don’t ever sneak up on me like that again. I could have stabbed you.”
Landon’s frown turned to tolerant amusement. “Sure you could have,” he said patronizingly.
“I could have,” I insisted. It frightened me how ready I had been to do it. It hadn’t even been a question. My brain had dealt with it so simply – there was a threat that had to be eliminated because if it wasn’t, it would reach Emma. After a lifetime of avoiding animal products and carrying bugs out of the house rather than squashing them, my better nature had been deprogrammed in a split second.