Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
The walk to my car was nice. The ocean breeze whipped through the palm trees and kept me cool. I hopped in my Range Rover and put on the newest episode from a true-crime podcast I’d been listening to lately. Maddy had mentioned it once when we were all hanging out, and I got hooked.
The drive to my house wasn’t a long one, so I only got to form assumptions about who the murderer was. I stopped the podcast as I pulled up to the security gate outside of my parents’ complex. The guard already knew me. He gave me a friendly wave before he pressed a button and the curling black iron gates slowly swung open onto a perfectly landscaped and mansion-littered community. I drove around the island of rare and expensive succulents, going down the wide and recently paved roads toward the back of the community. My house was the only one with solar panels attached to the roof, some of them visible from my angle.
All of it Mom’s idea.
My house rose up like a crown on a regal head. It was the biggest in the community, looking like a white-and-black glass monster ready to devour all the other homes around it. I parked next to my dad’s third Corvette. My grip around the steering wheel tightened. I rolled my neck and took a second to gather myself.
Yes, I was here to see my mom, but I was also here to talk with my dad.
That was the real reason I decided to stop by. I didn’t really have a plan, but I had a motive, and I was going to go through with it.
You got this, I thought to myself as I walked up to the front door. My parents had always talked about how much they loved this door. It was large and arching and clearly made from some expensive kind of wood. Now, all I could think about was where they had sourced the trees from. I’d never really thought about our environmental impact as much as I had since meeting Jay. I wanted to prove to him I wasn’t some kind of polluting monster, but first, I thought I should try and speak to my dad first. If I could show him whose side I was really on, then maybe Jay wouldn’t stress about being seen with me.
The door chimed as I stepped inside, echoing around the grand foyer. The floors must have been recently washed, the white marble shining like a mirror. I could hear activity near the kitchen, so I headed that way.
“Hey, Mom,” I said, finding her and a few of her friends around the kitchen island, hovering over a fruit ball and a cheese board. She set her glass of champagne down and gave me a tight hug, kissing me on the cheek.
“RyRy, we were just talking about you, actually.” It was Violet, my mom’s best friend. She was the lead singer of a rock band and had the look to go along with it. Half her head was shaved, she had a few neck tattoos, and she loved wearing as many rings as possible. She was very much the opposite of my mom’s clean-cut Stepford housewife vibe, which was probably what made them such great best friends for so long. “I was telling your mom that I really think you should meet my nephew. You two would be the cutest little couple.”
That got a laugh out of me. Violet was always trying to hook me up with someone in her family. It had become a running joke ever since it started. I wondered how many gay guys were part of her bloodline. “Thanks for thinking of me, but I’m happy to report I’m officially taken.”
My mom clapped her hands together. Violet braced herself against the island as if she’d received devastating news. The other friends laughed.
“Who’s the lucky person?” my mom asked, her eyes lighting up with curiosity.
“You’ll meet him eventually,” I said—I hoped. I wasn’t entirely sure how that meeting would go. I didn’t think Jay would make things awkward, but I couldn’t see him staying silent about my family’s business, either. “Where’s Dad?”
“In his office,” my mom answered. She had the look of a bloodhound fresh on a trail, same as Violet. I excused myself before they sat me down, shone a light in my face, and started to interrogate me about Jay.
I walked through the living room, up the spiraling staircase, down the family-photo-lined hallway, and up one last flight of stairs before reaching the partly open door to my dad’s office. A keyboard furiously clicked away from behind the door. My dad’s voice trailed along with the clicks. He must have been on the phone.
“Yes, yes, I know it’s—no, I don’t care. Don’t fuck me on this, Frank. I’m telling you right fucking now. Oh, hey, Ry.” My dad looked up from his desk and smiled at me as I tiptoed into the dimly lit office. Behind him were two windows with their shades drawn tight. The only source of light was a bronze floor lamp standing in a curving nook next to an untouched bookshelf.