Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 84871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
“Yeah. I’m a virgin.”
Kaden and Tate both erupt with laughter that causes several people—including PMU girl—to glance over at us with curiosity.
“Wait,” I start, feeling fucking stupid right about now.
Sloane shakes her head, smirking, and holds up her hand. “Stop. It’ll only get worse.” She takes another sip of her coffee and motions at me. “How’s the iPad? I keep waiting to get a picture to see your work. Have you even used it yet?”
Used it?
I’ve drawn countless portraits of this perfect woman.
Once, I even beat off to them.
To fucking art.
Shame curdles my stomach. I hate that I’m this way around this woman. I lose all cool and sense of who I am, stumbling over my words and acting like a general idiot.
“I use it a lot,” I assure her, unable to meet her eyes. “I just can’t show you anything yet. Not until I’m better.”
She reaches over and touches my forearm, sending a thrill shooting through me. “I’m looking forward to seeing what you come up with. Text me soon and show me.”
I find the backbone to meet her stare. She’s being genuine and really wants to see my art. This settles something deep inside of me. I’ll draw her something she’ll love. Something really special.
Kaden burps from his chair, earning everyone’s attention. He’s wearing a chocolate mustache and a goofy grin. I burn the image into my head, knowing exactly what I’ll draw for Sloane.
And then I’ll have an excuse to text her.
All shitty thoughts of Dad and my future and a stupid car vanish.
Everything vanishes whenever Sloane is around.
She’s magical as fuck.
Sloane
Kaden is bored out of his skull and I can’t blame him. I don’t have any other choice, though, but to bring him here with me. The department receptionist, Tara O’Connor, has been nice enough to help me keep an eye on him whenever I’ve had to go out on a call or patrol.
Why won’t Rhiannon call me back?
It’s been a month and she obviously knows her son hasn’t come back home. I’m not exactly adjusting to having a kid in the house, but at least he’s safe, fed, and somewhat happy.
Since they’re my family, I’m not about to involve social services. From experience, I know they’ll just put him back in the apartment with Rhiannon and Lenny, which is clearly not where he wants to be. My gut churns thinking that I may have to visit Mom and Nevaeh to see if they have a way of getting a hold of her.
“Can we do something fun tonight, Aunt Sloane?” Kaden asks, plopping down in the chair across from my desk. “All you do is work and when you get home, we watch boring cop shows.”
I remember being in his shoes—when I finally escaped hell—and learning that when you weren’t always in a state of distress, life was actually kind of boring. As it is for him, I found it difficult to adjust.
My phone buzzes on the desk and I hold up a finger, letting him know we’ll get back to this conversation in a minute.
Dempsey: It’s not my best work but I hope you like it.
I open the picture he’s attached and find my nephew staring back at me. He’s cheesing for the camera and has a chocolate milk mustache. In the illustration, you don’t see the heartache and pain he’s gone through. All you see is pure joy—the kind a child should have at his age.
It’s beautiful.
My eyes burn and a lump forms in my throat. I knew Dempsey was artistic, but the level of skill he possesses is unreal. He didn’t just draw my nephew. He took a perfect moment and transformed it into something everlasting. Something special and wonderful.
Me: Wow. I have no words. This is phenomenal. Thank you.
He sends me several smirking emojis that make me chuckle. I show Kaden and his eyes bug out of his head.
“Dempsey drew that?”
“Yeah. He’s pretty amazing.” I grin and look down to see he’s texted me again.
Dempsey: You and Cayden should come over for dinner tonight. Mom likes seeing you and I could teach him to play pool. Might be fun.
Me: Kaden is how you spell it. I’ll ask him.
My stomach twists in an unnatural way and I wonder if I’m getting sick. Probably all the stupid sludge coffee I have to drink when I don’t have time to pop into Park Peak Brew.
“He wants to know if we want to come over for dinner tonight and—”
“Hell yeah!” Kaden hollers, jumping up from his seat before I can finish my statement.
I laugh at his antics, ignoring a few sour glares from some of the older officers at our precinct. It may not be cool to bring your nephew to work, but I did get Tanaka to authorize it. They can kiss my ass if they have an issue with it.