Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 70429 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70429 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“No, I won’t be getting it, but it’s nice. I like it. Just nowhere to put it.” She placed it back down.
He stepped back and kept his eye on her.
“You have an interesting style. Big shiny earrings, long braids, and—”
“They’re called butterfly locs.”
“Butterfly locs… how appropriate. Nice boots, too. And jacket.”
“Are you flirtin’ with me? ’Cause you done come over here again when I didn’t ask for any assistance. Or maybe you’re just tryin’ to sell all this shit so you don’t have to take it back in the house?”
“Both.”
“That’s fair.” She grinned as she placed the painting back down.
“I’ll help you get those into your car when you’re ready. My name is Caspian, by the way.” He extended his hand and she shook it. “And yours?” The man’s thick, dark eyebrow arched.
“Azure.”
“A unique name for a unique woman.” She moved to the side and picked up a Bible that was on a table. What a strange item to sell… “Would you be interested in goin’ to breakfast with me tomorrow?”
“Why are you sellin’ a Bible?” She waved it about.
“Because no one in this house is reading it.”
“You don’t have no use for a Bible?” she asked, wanting to get down to the nitty gritty. Besides, he was an interesting man. Nice looking, too. In fact, he was gorgeous. A bit of a mysterious and alluring vibe clung to him like blackness on a dream.
“I’ve read the Bible. I don’t tend to re-read books I’ve already read, or re-watch movies I’ve already seen.”
“You don’t believe in God, do you?” She smiled big, resting her hand on her hip. He smiled right back at her. In the commotion, she could hear people talking all around them, bargaining, and 1980’s music playing on that old radio.
“I’m not sure.”
“Why ain’t you sure?” She picked up her vase and he picked up the planter, following her to her car.
“Because I ain’t never seen Him.”
“Oh, you’ve seen Him.” She winked, then popped the trunk. “You can put it in there.” He gently placed the planter inside, and she closed the trunk. Then, she put the vase on its side, on the floor of the backseat.
“I’ve never seen Him,” he repeated as she got into her car.
“And I said you have. You see me right here before your eyes, don’t you?”
He smirked. “I do.”
“The Black woman is God. Consider yourself blessed.”
“Does that blessin’ come with breakfast? A lil’ communion?”
She looked at him for a long while, snatched a piece of scrap paper from her car, and jotted down her number. “Here. Call me. I might answer.”
He stared at the piece of paper, a peculiar expression on his face, then grinned. Boy was he hard to read.
“I’m definitely callin’. You take care now.” He began to back away from the car.
“You too. I can’t wait to get this vase home. I’m going to repaint it green, and put long white feathers in it. It’s a total vibe.”
And then, she drove away…
Chapter Five
Caspian dabbed the side of his mouth with a napkin. He’d finished his bowl of chili and was enjoying a beer in his brother’s beautiful home. He looked around the circular table, his gaze resting on Axel first, then Legend. It was just the three of them, like old times, eating and drinking, catching up.
Axel’s home smelled like the fancy hotels he stayed at in Vegas, while traveling for work. The two lit candles in bronze jars, which English had purchased from Desiree, gave off that vibe. She makes candles. How fucking sweet. The double fireplace was lit, and children’s’ laughter came from the upstairs area. Another sweet touch.
Am I a little jealous? Maybe. Marriages. Children. Pretending to be normal family men. Axel and Legend are playing these roles well.
“I don’t need it, I want it.” He tapped his foot. “Some fucking normalcy. I look normal. I pretend to be normal. But I’m not normal.”
“All of us are doing that. You just did it the best, Caspian.” Legend smirked. But damn if the bastard wasn’t right.
“People love my column and podcast. They love how I write, and all the dedication and research I put into my work. I write about forgotten cold cases all day, some of them weird as fuck. I’ve been avoiding this trip, man. All the feelings are coming back.” He waved his hand lazily as he spoke.
“Are you triggered?” Axel asked, leaning back in his chair and crossing one ankle over the other.
“I can’t be triggered if I’ve cut off all sensation. I have pretended to not care for so long, now even I’m convinced.”
“Well then, tell us about the girl. You said something strange happened the other day at the yard sale you had.” Axel tilted his beer bottle to his mouth. His long hair was piled in a sloppy manbun atop his head, and his new hand tattoo of a black raven with ominous red eyes was covered with a protective clear wrap.