Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 85817 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85817 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
I could hear Sam’s stifled cries. It tore at my gut like a cat clawing at a scratching post. I grabbed Jesse’s fist as he raised it in the air, ready to land what would most likely have been a finishing blow. Instead, I twisted his arm with as much force as I had, sending him spinning down onto the ground with a surprised shout. He hit the hard stone floor with his chest. I could hear the air sucked out of him, replaced by wheezes.
That was when I pushed a knee down onto his back, and the rest was, well, relatively short history. With him subdued, we waited for the police to show up. They didn’t arrest him, but he was cited, and if it happened again, he would for sure end up behind bars. I wanted him locked up for life, but Sam seemed to be ready to wash his hands of it all.
I stood with Sam on the street, looking down into a pair of dusty gray eyes that had some kind of unexplainable power over me.
“So…” Sam said, his smile wide even after the shit he’d just been through. “You, uh, were following him or me? Cuz you could have just asked me out on a date if that were the case, Detective.”
Those gray eyes had so much power over me that I found myself laughing at his joke. Actually laughing.
I never laughed. Not the loud, boisterous laugh that had come out of me just then, surprising me and Sam both, judging by his expression.
“I was tailing Jesse,” I said when the laughter trailed off, as if I really needed to explain. Besides, I didn’t want to ask Sam out on a date. I wanted to ask him to come straight home to my bedroom. Images flashed across my mind. Images of Sam, his lithe body twitching and flushed and laid out on the bed, his wrists bound behind him, his eyes covered by a velvet red blindfold.
I quickly silenced those thoughts before my bulge became any more obvious.
“Why’d you ask Jesse to meet?” I asked.
Sam looked down at his scuffed white Converse. “I thought I could help. But, clearly, I only ended up making things worse.”
“Nah, you helped.”
He looked up, exactly what I wanted him to do.
I wanted another chance to look into those eyes of his. “How?” he asked. “I just made a bigger mess. At lease Jesse’s moving out, but… shit.” He winced and rubbed his arm, where a bruise was beginning to appear.
A part of me wanted to reach out and grab him, only so I could pull him against my chest and tell him it’d be okay.
And then, after I whispered into his ear, felt him melt like putty in my hands, then I’d ravage him. I’d consume him, every piece of him. Once we were done, sweaty and breathless, I’d whisper to him again. I’d assure him that I’d always make sure things were okay.
“You did help. The way he reacted today, it’s the way someone who’s guilty would react. Listen, Sam, I believe you. I think Jesse is the one behind this, and today’s meeting helped solidify that for me. Him moving out won’t affect my case. I’ll find proof he was stealing Hazel’s underwear, and I’ve got a feeling that with some digging, I’ll find a lot more.”
His eyes jumped from mine down to my lips, then down to his Converse. “Is this you apologizing?”
What? No, absolutely not.
I cocked my head. “Is that what you’re looking for?”
“No, I just… well, yeah, kind of.”
His eyes came back to mine, and, against the strongest and most deeply-rooted instincts tugging inside me, I said, “I’m sorry.”
He looked as surprised as I felt. “Okay. Well… I accept it.” His lips curled into a warm smile, matching the warmth behind his gaze. “Thank you. Not only for helping Hazel, but for helping me, too.”
“Anytime.”
“So,” Sam said, rocking back and forth on his heels. I noticed then that he’d gotten a haircut. Somehow, in all the chaos of the fight and the resulting aftermath, I had missed out on that little detail. “What’s next?”
I swallowed down a compliment, instead sticking to his question.
“I’m going to gather more evidence, and I’m going to prove Jesse’s a fucked-up creep. With the way he’s acting, I’m sure he’ll make a mistake soon. He’ll let something slip, and I’ll catch it.”
“Well, maybe you can start in his room. He’s got a stash of drugs in there. I think he’s getting into dealing.”
“What? How do you… why didn’t you call the police?”
“So they can come and find a stash somewhere in my closet that I don’t know about? The same way you found Hazel’s underwear under my bed? I don’t think so. I’m done sticking my head into things I shouldn’t.”