Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
“Nah, it’s cool,” I say as I plop down on the other end of the couch and scratch behind my sassy feline’s ears. “He’s good at getting his way.”
Funky’s tail swishes happily and he purrs as if to agree.
“How did your meeting go with Jude?” Willa asks, features turning sad.
I lean back against the sofa and stare up at the ceiling. “It was fine. I see Spencer later after lunch.”
She studies me, intently searching my gaze as if she can find out how it really went, but I keep my features impassive, not giving anything away.
“So you’re free until then?” she asks.
“I am. Why? Do you want to talk or need help with something?”
“Actually, I was about to go to a doctor’s appointment and wouldn’t mind the company. Normally, Callum goes with me, but he’s been knee-deep in work. I know he doesn’t want me to go by myself, but if you went with me, he could stay and work without feeling guilty.”
Leaving the compound and possibly running into Sean is unnerving. If he sees my car, things could get bad.
“We can take Callum’s car. He has heated seats.” She regards me with widened eyes and a pleading tone. “I’ll even buy you a fun coffee drink on the way back.”
“How can I say no to heated seats and free coffee?” I joke, grinning back at her. “Yeah, I’ll keep you company.”
I can do this.
Sean doesn’t own this town and he can’t be everywhere. The chances of running into him at the doctor’s office or a coffee place are slim.
Heavy footsteps thud down the hall and Callum appears, his phone glued to his ear. He frowns heavily, a torn expression on his face.
“Tate’s going with me,” she whispers. “Stay and work. It’ll be fine.”
Callum shoots me a quick, grateful look and then bends down to kiss Willa on the mouth. He isn’t shy about the dirty kiss he gives her while in my presence. My neck grows hot because their kiss is so intimate and filled with love that I feel weird witnessing it. Finally, he breaks away but not before pinning her with a searing look that promises much more later.
As soon as he’s stalked back off to his office, Willa sighs happily as she moves my cat off her lap and gently places him on the sofa.
I wonder if I’ll ever get the chance to know that kind of happiness.
Being loved unconditionally, feeling safe, and free of fear would be a foreign concept, but it’s one I’d really like to try on for size.
Jude
He’s hiding something.
I knew it before, but after meeting with him this morning, I could feel it. This secret of his was bubbling just below the surface, teasing me to reach down and claw at it. While he threw me a bone about his childhood, I know it was a tactic to distract me.
There’s more.
And I will find out what it is.
Just like most days, I hole up in my office, away from Violet and the other house staff, family, and most of all, Grandpa. Grandpa is nosier than Dad. Every night besides Sunday, I have to sit with him at dinner, dodging any and all attempts at him trying to dig into my head.
Sure, Grandpa is old and forgetful, but he remembers every detail about what happened to me, Mom, and the fire that ruined my life. It’s his favorite topic to delve into. Secretly, I think Grandpa has made it his sole mission in life to fix me.
I don’t need fixing.
I need to be left alone.
My office is my solace—my safe space. I can settle into my comfortable chair and dive into other people’s lives, mostly forgetting about my own while on my task.
All too quickly, I zone out, losing myself to the hunt. Before long, I’ve located a deserted Facebook profile for Tate. I have programs that allow me to easily hack into social media profiles and I break into his within minutes. The password, FUNKYCAT, may be useful in the future. I save it to a new folder labeled Prince.
The last time he posted on Facebook was two years ago. Interesting. He has exactly thirty-four friends on there, most of which can be linked back to his small-town high school in Iowa. It’s all generic posts on his page for his birthday—December 16—when he’ll turn twenty-eight.
Okay, so he is legally able to drink.
At least that wasn’t a lie.
His messages are all basic “remember me from chemistry class?” type of correspondence. He chats with these various people, but the conversations all die out eventually, leaving Tate on unread.
One thing’s for sure. He’s evidently lonely. That, I can understand.
Sighing, I abandon his Facebook and do a deeper dive that requires me stepping into the dark web. From there, I search police reports for Tate Prince. He’d hinted about his alcoholic father, and based on the pinched expression, I had the sense it was painful. My intuition proves right when I find several reports of David Prince spending the night in jail for child endangerment by driving with his child while drunk, or physical assault to his son.