Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Ethan doesn’t say anything for a while. “Landon hasn’t dated in years,” he says after the tension has passed. “Even when he was on the dating scene, it would be a couple a year, and those were mostly double dates I’d drag him along to. Once, I asked him if he ever wanted to find a woman and settle down. Rich, coming from me …”
“What did he say?” I murmur, trying to hide how achingly bad I want to learn more about him.
“He said, sometimes when he was out in public, he’d look at married couples who were in love. The happy few, he called them. He said if he ever found a woman he could imagine experiencing that with, he’d snap her up in a second, but he didn’t sound optimistic.”
“Why?”
“There’s a demon in him, he said. Maybe because of the …”
“I know,” I whisper, so he doesn’t have to reference the apple tree job again.
“He said it made him cold when he needed it, but it’s why he’d never be able to find a woman. You know his brother died suddenly, too.”
“Charley,” I murmur. “I remember from when I was a kid. Do you, Mom? He talked about it.”
“A heart attack, the poor man,” Mom murmurs.
“After that, he was even colder than usual, even more logical. You can never fault Landon for being logical, but sometimes, that works against him. Sometimes, it’s like he’s built a prison for himself.”
I’m trying to help him to break out. That goes unspoken. I’d probably sound like a dork if I said it aloud. I wanted to call him and check if he was doing okay, but he refused to answer once he knew I was with Ethan.
“We’re almost there,” he says.
“Has he told you what he’s doing?”
“The right thing,” Ethan says. “It’s the only thing he knows how to do.”
I want to ask Ethan to be more specific, but I can’t push this too far. Instead, I sit back and rest my forehead against the window, thinking of Landon being alone for years, never knowing if he would find somebody. That’s the difference between him and me. As messed up as it is, I thought I’d found my knight in shining armor the first time I saw him.
Sure, it was a girlish crush. He was an inspiration. I couldn’t have known he would one day be the man for me. Yet silly and immature or not, I always had that fantasy to keep me going, at least. When I felt lonely or hopeless, I could think of him. Obviously, he wasn’t thinking of me. He had nobody. He was cold.
“Lily,” Mom whispers.
“I’m fine,” I say, angrily rubbing my hand over my cheek. “What am I going to do about work tomorrow?”
“You’ll have to call in sick,” Ethan says. “It’s Saturday the day after. Do you work Saturdays?”
“Not this week.”
“Then yeah, call in sick, take the weekend, and hopefully, this will be sorted by next week.”
“The mob … sorted, how?”
“Landon will find a way,” Ethan snaps, then clams up.
I sigh and stare out the window until we get to his apartment. Ethan helps us carry the bags to the underground parking lot’s elevator. The urge to scream is almost overwhelming as we ride it up together. How can I stay here, hiding away from the world, when Landon’s helping people?
“What happens if we want to leave?” I ask.
“Why would we do that?” Mom snaps. “We should be grateful. If bad men are after us …”
“I’m just asking.”
“I’m not going to stop you,” Ethan says. “I can’t legally keep you here, but I’ve never heard Landon like that. He made me promise to protect you. He sounded committed and seriously passionate about it. He would never forgive himself if you left here and something happened to you, Lily.”
“Okay, I get it,” I tell him, guilt pulsing through me. “I’m not going to run. I’m not going to do that to him.”
A bitter voice reminds me that I have to remember about my job. If anybody sees us together …
The elevator door opens. A woman is lounging on the hallway chair, wearing nothing but a robe. She stands up when she sees us, brushing herself down.
“Are these your friends?” she says anxiously. She’s got a British accent.
“I said you could wait in the bedroom, Rosie,” Ethan replies.
“Are they staying with us?”
“With us?” Ethan says, shaking his head. “Jesus, we talked about this …”
The woman frowns. She has a dignified look despite her messy hair and her outfit. “That isn’t very gentlemanly to say in front of company.”
Ethan glances at us, gritting his teeth, and not from the effort of holding our bags. “Rosita—”
“So we’re back to formal names now,” the woman utters. “Oh, excuse me, ladies.” She sneers over at us. “I just hope you know what sort of man you’re dealing with. He’ll turn a business meeting into a date, into drinks, then act as if you’re trying to marry him for making a simple comment.”