Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 74450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
“Okay. I’ll see you.” Caspian smiled and waved, watching for a few seconds as Jasper and the old man piled into the truck. Then, he took Azure’s hand and made his way over to the red Lexus he was renting, opening the passenger’s side door, and helping her inside.
Once in the car himself and on the road, they didn’t say much at all. They held hands while she gave him space to process what just happened. To scream inside his head. To shout out all the things he was thinking but didn’t want to talk about. The purple, soft vulnerability.
His mood had altered as he kept listening to Harrison’s voice, noticing the subtle yet poignant similarities. Azure asked him no questions. She simply wiggled out of her shoes, placed them behind her seat on the floor, and bobbed her head to the beat of ‘1 Thing,’ by Amerie. She sat there looking sultry. Wise. Sexy. She dived deep in shades of purple, her fingers brushing against his, smelling like promises granted—while the promises he’d made himself were broken…
…But not this one.
He smiled as he thought of Mrs. Florence.
Promise granted.
She’d won.
He was doing the work. Toiling the corn field. Getting lost in hopes of being found.
He had no idea who he was dealing with. An equally pleasant and alarming surprise. Mrs. Florence was dressed in green and purple audacity, smelling like new pencils and chalk—and when she walked, she left cracked concrete in her wake. Her gold six-inch stilettos sounded like thunder as she started a fire and blew on it, making it spread, when he said it was too damn hot. When she opened her mouth, out tumbled white feathers and purple rope to hang himself with from a rafter high up in the sky.
Puzzle pieces were forming. Merging. Becoming something beautiful and real. Silence was the enemy, and the savior. He heard the slight shift of the knife under the seat. He always kept one close. His gun was in the glove box. A diamond ring was in a clear box on his hip. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the glow of Azure’s phone upon her face.
She was scrolling through her social media, her fingers still grazing his, with her free hand. She turned and looked at him. Her lips remained closed, but the way she looked at him said so much. They were speaking. Right then and there with no words. His eyes sheened over, but before he could blink it away, she whispered,
“Feel it… Hear it… Taste it… See it… SPEAK IT. Even if the language you choose is a hush… You are a silent knight, waving your sword in a cornfield. Chop down the stalks. See the forest for the trees. Dress yourself up in yo’ mama’s love…” And then, she turned away, looking back at her phone. The radio began to become staticky, and he braced himself. He took deep breaths…
In…
Out…
In…
Out…
I CAN FEEL YOU! MAMA!!! MAMA!!!
He cried out. In his head. He screamed so loud. He gripped the steering wheel as if it were a purple crayon. A lifeline to a life he once knew. And then, he heard it. A tear fell from his eye as Madonna crooned through the speakers,
“…Gonna dress you up in my love…all over… all over… from your head down to your toes…”
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Tonight’s podcast is brought to you by Serendipity Soaps. Serendipity soaps lather up and rinse away clear and clean, leavin’ you feeling soft all over. Use my promo code, Caspian Emory, E.M.O.R.Y., and get twenty percent off your first order. Nothin’ says clean and sexy like Serenity Soaps. Rub a dub dub.”
Azure sat across from Caspian in his townhouse, where he’d set up his makeshift studio. Her leg spread across his lap, she held a red plastic cup filled with something she had no business sipping on: a triple shot of Baileys. Caspian removed his headphones and let the music play: Al B. Sure’s, ‘Off On Your Own Girl.’
“Oh, shit. I remember my aunt playin’ the shit outta this song.” She set her cup down on his workstation, jumped to her feet, and went through an old school dance routine her aunt had taught her when she was a kid.
“What are you doin’?” He chuckled as he fiddled with his computer during the break.
“It’s called the Wop. Come on! Dance with me!” She yanked on his arm and he finally stood, watching her. “Come on! Don’t stand there like a piece of wood. Dance with me.”
“I’m trying to watch how you do it so I can copy it.”
“Boy, just let me show you. You don’t know how to do it.”
“I’ve learned everything I know by watchin’ other people. If I can learn by watching someone fix a car, fill a cavity, and put in new carpet properly, I can do this, too.”