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)
He cocked his head to the side and served her the biggest, sexiest grin she’d ever seen. “What do you think I am plottin’, beautiful undercover detective?” He brought his drink to his mouth and sipped. He was cool with it. There was no blinking. No extra swallowing. He made direct eye contact and didn’t miss a beat.
“I don’t know. But it’s somethin’. Your trickery was not directed at me but at her. You want somethin’ you ain’t sayin’. It was in your tone. The way you stood. The way you moved.” He rolled his eyes and chuckled. “I’m serious. I’m an artist, just like you said earlier tonight. I notice pursed lips, rocking legs, tapping feet. I know what nervousness looks like. Deception. Hidden agendas. Awkwardness. Shyness. Lust. Love. I paint it. I immortalize it on canvas for the whole city, country, and world to see. You now have a big ass wall up so that I can’t see nothin’, but that’s because I already caught you with the veil down. Now, I’m telling you what it was, what it is, and what it will be.” She puffed on her cigar and rolled her eyes, mirroring his move. Mothafuckas think they slick…
Reaching for her chin, he hooked it between two fingers, lifted her face, and kissed her soundly. “Are you a sensitive?”
“Am I sensitive? Like, with my emotions? Feelings?”
“No. Do you believe you possess some sort of psychic ability?”
She shrugged. “I don’t believe so. It’s just intuition. I’m sensitive to vibes but I can’t read no minds, see no ghosts, things like that. We all got it but often ignore it. If I was psychic, I’d be a multi-millionaire by now. I would have traveled the world and solved world hunger.”
He chuckled at that.
“That’s not true, darlin’. Lots of broke or damn near poor empathic folks in the world.”
“So you don’t believe in God, but you believe in psychics?”
“I never told you I don’t believe in God. I said I wasn’t sure. I’m agnostic. The possibility is there—I just don’t have enough proof. I do believe the dead can talk, though, and I also believe that some people’s intuition, as you call it, is stronger than others. Such as mine. I’ve always been able to read and see through people.”
“Oh, is that so? Now this is gettin’ juicy. Tell me what you detect about me tonight?”
“Oh… I see a beautiful lady who’s been brought into my life to teach me a lesson. I can either learn it and embrace it, or you’ll be used to destroy me.” He shrugged. “It’s a complicated situation, yet simplistic at the same time. When you understand the habits of creatures, the truth, the gameplan, the next moves are pretty much written on the wall. I knew fairly soon I was gonna meet an incredible woman when I got back in town. I knew she’d be different from anyone I’ve ever experienced, met, or dealt with. The same thing that happened to my brothers. This woman is predictable and so confident in her abilities, she doesn’t even care to try and hide her hand. I’m talkin’ about my teacher… Mrs. Florence. She haunts me.”
“Hmmm, I see.” She bit on her nail and mulled that over.
“You don’t have to believe me. I know how crazy it sounds, but it’s true.”
She smirked at his words. “I imagine that you believe it, regardless of whether it’s true or not. Now what makes me so different that she’d hand-select me personally?”
“You can probably handle me.” He looked away lazily, as if bored with the conversation already. “Most can’t.”
“Most can’t handle a tall, handsome, slick country gentleman such as yourself?”
“That’s all outside stuff. Superficial. Who I am on the inside may not be so handsome, slick, country and gentlemanly…”
Her smile faded, but then she reached for the back of his head and stroked his hair… He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch.
“You’re such an extraordinary person. You possess magnetism. Mystery. And you’re brooding.”
“Brooding, huh?”
“Definitely… and you keep secrets.”
“Well, here’s a secret for ya. Are you ready?”
“Yes, I am. Tell me.” She leaned in so close, their foreheads practically touched.
“I told you my mama was dead, but I didn’t tell you what happened. My mama climbed up on top of her bed, wrapped a rope ’round her neck, and hung herself from a rafter when I was five years old. I was stuck in the house wit’ her dead body for days. Sat under her while she swung back and forth and decomposed. Do you want some more bourbon?” He pointed at her empty glass.
Her heart galloped like wild horses within her. The tone of his voice had remained calm and even, adding even a bigger punch to her gut.
“No. I’ve had enough to drink tonight, Caspian…” She felt her dinner repeat.