Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 173392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 867(@200wpm)___ 694(@250wpm)___ 578(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 173392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 867(@200wpm)___ 694(@250wpm)___ 578(@300wpm)
“You were always different,” Mariette muses. “Even as a kid, you were quieter. You turned inward. You thought about things more than other people. Aware of the darkness and always spotting it first. Sensitive to the world.”
She looks down at me. “But that’s the part of you that saved us. We’re still here only because of you.”
I stare at my lap, shaking my head just slightly.
“My family and I get to stay because of you,” she continues. “People have food in the fridge and are protected because of you. You planned, anticipated, and turned your head inside out in one move after another in order to protect what was ours. You overthink and keep yourself hidden, so no one really knows you. That makes you intimidating and unpredictable. No one can do what you do. Army doesn’t have the stomach. Trace and Iron want other things, and Dallas wants to burn everything he sees. You’re the one we know will always be there.”
I can’t look at her.
“Your weaknesses are your strengths,” she tells me. “What would I have done without you?”
I clench my fists, feeling the muscles in my arms tightening over and over again.
Mariette scoops some soup into a disposable container and hands it to me. I take it, the warmth seeping through to my hand. “Eat it soon,” she orders.
I take a sip and then another, eating bits of chicken and some noodles and getting hungrier the more I eat.
I smile a little. “I like your soup,” I whisper.
She goes back to work. “That’s Krisjen’s recipe,” she says. “She makes all of your food.”
My body warms.
I finish the soup and head back to the house, seeing Trace take the garbage cans out to the road while Dallas loads the truck. Army gets Dex buckled up to go to the sitter, and Mars comes running out of the house with his lunch and backpack.
And I didn’t have to yell at anyone to do any of it.
Army stops and looks at me. I turn away and walk toward the garage, twisting on the hose. Pulling off my shirt, I set it aside and lean over, letting the cold water run over the back of my neck.
It helps. I run it for a minute until I’m so cold, I couldn’t think if I tried, and my body feels a surge of energy under my skin. I turn it off and pull my shirt back on.
I walk to the trucks as they start to climb in. I hesitate for a moment, but I force it out. “I’ll come in with you.”
Army stops just before closing his door. “Huh?”
“I’ll take Fox Hill with Trace.”
I move toward the other truck, jerking my chin at Trace to toss me the keys.
He sighs, walking to the passenger side. “Well, how am I supposed to drink on the job now?” he grumbles. “Shit.”
Army casts me one long, last look before turning on the engine. He drives off, toward the sitter, and I start to climb into the driver’s side, but I hear music. Looking over, I glimpse Paisleigh and Krisjen bouncing around the pool deck to some Olivia Newton-John song.
Pink. She reminds me of things that are flamingo pink. And water guns and treehouses and fresh-cut grass. I can smell sunscreen, all of it reminding me of being a kid.
She’s like it’s summer all the time.
I climb in the truck, excited to go, because she’ll be here when we come home.
She’s sleeping in my room tonight.
Not forever.
Just one more night.
23
Krisjen
I head out to the patio, my arms full with plates as I push open the door with my butt. I set down the meals at table fifteen, grab the empty glasses at sixteen, and look out to the road, seeing Paisleigh … riding a bike.
My mouth drops open. What …?
I almost drop the glasses.
She races past, sitting on someone’s blue bike and trying to catch up to another group of kids.
I smile and laugh at the same time, about to call her over, but I don’t want to distract her and make her fall. When did she learn to ride a bike?
I guess the extended stay in the Bay is good for her. My mom is away for the week, so she’s none the wiser that I let Bateman take off—with pay—while the guys and I keep the kids. Mars hasn’t complained, and Paisleigh’s ready to move into the Jaeger house.
I watch her as I head back into the restaurant, smiling, but then I hear a rumble behind me and look over my shoulder. Two trucks fly in, filling the remaining parking spaces in front of the restaurant. Army, Dallas, and Trace jump out, and I search the cabs for Macon’s outline but don’t see him. I thought he went with them again today.
I glance over at the house. The garage is closed.