Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 101399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
I didn’t see what the big deal was. Going through her belongings was the smartest move—research. Was it so repulsive? As I watched her heave her lunch into the toilet, I supposed it must have been.
A foreign set of words tumbled around in my chest. Ones I’d only uttered at the urging of my father, and I’d definitely never meant them. I grabbed a hand towel from next to the sink and handed it to her.
She sat back on her ass and leaned the back of her head against the tiled wall next to the toilet. I didn’t like her color, didn’t like that I’d caused this reaction in her.
The words rattled around again, demanding their freedom almost as vehemently as Camille had done.
I took a chance. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” Her incredulous eyes peered into mine. “Sorry for invading my privacy in the worst way?”
I made a mental note to never tell her about the cameras in her house. “It seemed logical.”
“Logical?” Her eyes closed, and she wiped her mouth with the white hand towel again. “Why do you act like a robot?”
“I’m not a robot.” I sat down near her, the tile warm beneath me. “I’m a psychopath.”
“Right.” She laughed, the sound strained and off key.
“I’m not as bad as you think.” I could taste the lie, acrid on my tongue, before the sentence was out of my mouth.
“I know.” She nodded. “You’re worse.”
I considered lying to her, but decided against it. “That’s accurate.”
She clenched her eyes shut, and a tear slipped down her cheek. “Just let me go.”
Her soft plea would have broken anyone else. It had the opposite effect on me. The more she tried to fly away, the harder I wanted to clip her wings. She was the most precious thing I’d ever found.
I rose. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”
“Let me guess.” She swiped the tears away with the back of her hand. “You need to return some videotapes?”
“Once again, I find the fact that you can quote American Psycho quite telling.” It tells me I’m the only man for you.
She didn’t answer, just stared at me with her watery blue eyes, beautiful even as her tears continued to flow—or possibly because of them.
21
Link
The anime porn wasn’t doing it for me. My cock wasn’t cooperating. I closed my laptop and leaned back in my chair. It was time for my pre-work jerk, but I couldn’t seem to get my usual mojo going.
The problem wasn’t the overdrawn tits or the odd Asian words pouring from the pouty lips as the cartoon girl was reamed from behind. It was Camille. Her messages had been so cold ever since she’d left. And when she hadn’t returned my “I love you,” it stung.
I rose and walked to the wide windows looking out on the city. What was her deal? I inspected my reflection in the glass. Flexing my bicep, I posed and turned to get a look at my profile. I still had it. Hell, women hit on me all the time. But they weren’t Camille, so I didn’t bother with them except for the few times I’d accepted a blow job. Those didn’t count. Not really.
My phone beeped. I returned to my desk and picked it up, hoping for a sext from Camille. Instead, it was a message from an unknown number.
“What the hell?”
Hi Link, this is Mint Baxter, a student of Ms. Briarlane’s. I know this is going to sound weird, but have you spoken to her since she left?
Why is some little shit from her class texting me? I hit the button to call the number.
It rang once before he picked up.
“Link?”
“Yeah, why are you texting me?” I hit the speaker button and dropped to the floor to do some pushups. “And how’d you get this number?”
“My Uncle Hal works with you. He left his phone here after he came to”—he coughed—“visit this weekend. Anyway, I, um, I’m sorry about this, but have you talked to Ms. Briarlane since she left?”
“No. She doesn’t have voice service where she is.” I squeezed my back muscles with each push away from the floor. This horny teen didn’t have a chance with Camille, if that was what he was after.
“I know, but she texted me and it seemed sort of…off. Did you take her to the airport?”
“Look, kid. She’s fine. She’s been texting me. I saw her get into the car that was taking her to the airport.”
“Okay. That makes me feel a little better I guess.”
I rolled my eyes. Like I cared how this pipsqueak felt. “Great. I have some important stuff to do today, so if that’s all…” My biceps began to get the good burn going.
“So her texts to you have been normal?” His voice still carried uncertainty.
“Yeah.” I pushed up and held it. Come to think of it, she’d been colder than usual. Sort of brushing me off? I shook my head. Not possible. “Mostly.”