Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 94915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Except I don’t say any of that, because I still feel this strange uncertainty swelling in my guts.
Kim’s sitting up in bed. She looks a lot better than the last time I saw her. The new nurse, this big German woman named Helga, has her on a different painkiller regimen and it seems to leave Kim a lot more lucid.
“Gotta admit, these are some sweet freaking digs,” Kim says, gesturing at the room. “Way better than the hospital.”
“You’re sure this is okay? I mean, you don’t want to be back home?”
“Not even in the slightest.”
“Even though you can’t have visitors?”
She laughs and pats my hand. “Honestly, I think a break from visitors will be good. And look, I’m not dumb, I know that Julien’s putting out some serious money to afford all this medical care for me, so I’m going to put it to the best use I can.”
I nod, overcome with emotion. “I really want you to heal, you know? So you can get back on your feet.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be walking soon.” She sighs and tugs at my hand. “Hey, stop crying. We don’t have to go through the whole you’re not to blame for what happened to me thing again, do we?”
“No, it’s not even that.” I wipe my face, feeling like an idiot, and tell her about my weird moment in the car with Julien. “And it’s like, I know he’s telling me the truth, but I still can’t make myself believe him.”
Kim nods and frowns at me for a second before reaching out and brushing some hair back. “You know, you really do love some self-sabotage, don’t you?” I burst out laughing. She grins at me and shrugs. “Seriously though, you have a man that’s clearly enamored with you, and I think you’re super into him too, so why give in to the dumb voices in your head?”
I know she’s right, but it’s hard for me to explain. Those voices aren’t my voices, they’re the voices of all the assholes that have kept me down for so long. Except I’m not home anymore—I’m not in my father’s house—and I don’t ever have to be there again.
I’m with Julien, and he’s with me.
Helga comes in and checks on Kim to make sure she’s comfortable. The big German nurse gives me the stink-eye, probably because I’m disturbing her precious patient. We laugh again once the nurse is gone, and I steer the conversation to better topics, mostly because I don’t want to dump all my emotional baggage right on Kim’s head when she only just got here.
But I keep thinking about Julien as the night wears on. He’s still not home when I finally head back to our room, so I resolve to find a way to fix the weirdness between us.
For once in my life, I’m going to do the right thing and refuse to self-destruct.
Chapter 32
Julien
“You sure about this?” Jean stares at me from behind the wheel of my BMW. We’re parked outside of a nice townhouse on a block close to the river. Million-dollar homes line the street, and big, leafy shade trees loom over the parked Jaguars and Aston Martins.
“How much was it again?”
“Six million. But that wasn’t even the largest.”
I nod to myself. “Still a whole lot.” I lean forward, squinting at the front door. “You know as well as I do what that kind of money can do to a person.”
“Still a big risk.”
“One I’m taking.” I check my gun to make sure it’s loaded before pushing open the door. “Wait here. I won’t be long.”
I walk up the front steps and knock on a freshly painted black door. It’s a little past eight at night, but I know the place isn’t empty. A light’s glowing in one of the downstairs windows. I hear steps approach and the door opens a crack. An older balding man stares out at me with a deep frown.
“Can I help you?”
“Bruce Sanders? My name’s Julien Moreau. I’m an associate of Dusan Petrovic.”
The man’s eyes widen at the names. He stares at me and his gaze flicks to the street behind me as though he expects a dozen goons to come storming in at my back. “What can I do for you, Mr. Moreau?”
“I’d like to have a conversation with you. If we can talk somewhere a little less visible?” I smile at him, trying to be as disarming as I can. The weight of my gun is a comfort pressed up against the small of my back.
Bruce lets me inside and steers me into a study right off the main hall. A woman’s voice echoes after us, but he tells her it’ll just be a second, he’s only speaking with a business associate very briefly. He shuts the door and turns the latch to lock it.