Total pages in book: 197
Estimated words: 199143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 996(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 996(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Kyle waved at the bottle of bourbon. “You want a drink?”
“First, not on my worst days would I drink bourbon,” she returned, “you all act like that tastes good when really, it tastes like death. And secondly, I can’t drink, so no.”
“Why can’t you dr—”
“We’re not talking about me here.”
Nope.
She wasn’t talking about that with him. Kyle was not going to be the first person besides her and the doctor to know she was pregnant. She had a man all the way across the world who deserved to know he was going to be a father before the rest of the world knew it. Roz owed Naz that much.
“So, is that what you think it is with her, then?” Roz asked.
Kyle cleared his throat. “What?”
“Trauma. You think she’s been through some trau—”
“I don’t make assumptions about others or what they’ve been through,” Kyle said, and then quieter, he added, “but there’s a look—all of us who have been through some shit can see it. It’s not like everybody else, Roz. We just ... know.”
Huh.
She wondered ... was it true what people said, that lost people found other lost people? Did they just see a reflection of their own experiences and pain in someone else, and know?
She didn’t have a clue.
It wasn’t the time to ask.
Kyle slapped a hand to the counter, and gave her a charming smile. It wasn’t lost on her how two seconds ago, the man had looked dark and entirely lost in his head. It was like he put his mask on for her, and just like that, he was fine again.
Or ... he looked that way.
In a way, Roz found that concerning. That Kyle was so good at pretending he was okay to everyone else that he didn’t even have to try to make people believe it, really. He probably had years to perfect his ... mask.
And wasn’t that kind of sad?
She thought so.
“Her name is Penny,” Kyle said, “and we can go see her anytime.”
Roz chewed on her inner cheek. “And then what, Kyle? What happens after I meet her, huh?”
“Guess we’re gonna see.”
Great.
That didn’t sound problematic at all.
England: Part 2
Naz POV
“Business or pleasure, sir?”
Naz looked up from the line he’d been standing in for well over an hour to see a custom’s agent arching a brow at him. Apparently, he was the next to go through—finally, why did customs always have to take forever no matter which country you were traveling into?—the line to get his shit checked.
“Pleasure,” Naz replied, smirking just a bit.
Yeah, pleasure seemed like the right way to say it. He certainly had business in this part of the world, but that had nothing to do with why he was here right now. In fact, he might regret this split decision later, but right now, he seriously doubted it.
“Bag on the table—open it up,” the agent said with a gloved-wave. “And get your passport out for me, too.”
Naz couldn’t count the amount of times he had gone through customs in his life. Okay, that was a lie—he absolutely could count it. His genius brain didn’t let him forget. He also knew the exact number of countries he had traveled into over the years, too.
It was a lot.
Fun, right?
Not so much.
Naz hefted his small carry-on up to the table, and fished his passport out of the back of his pocket, and tossed it over for the man to open up and look it over. He didn’t notice the look the agent was shooting him until he’d unzipped his bag, and looked up at the man.
“What?” he asked. “There a problem?”
That was the tricky thing about being who he was, and by that, he meant a criminal. Naz had a rotating folder of identities he used to run guns, but that didn’t mean somewhere ... in some fucking country, he hadn’t gotten caught in some way. Smart authorities wouldn’t plaster his picture and real name all over the place. No, they’d just send his information through Interpol, and let it do the work of waiting for him to show up somewhere again.
It was always a risk.
He took it.
The agent raised a brow, and set his passport down. “You don’t have very many bags if you’re visiting the country for pleasure, sir, that’s all.”
Naz chuckled, and nodded. “Well, I don’t plan to stay longer than it takes me to find my girlfriend and ask her if she’s pregnant.”
The agent blinked.
Naz smiled.
His father liked to say the best way to put a person off balance was to hit them with the last thing they expected you to say. Naz figured this had done exactly that for the guy across the table. One step closer to Roz.
Without even looking through his bag other than a quick, cursory check, the man brought out the items needed, stamped Naz’s passport, and nodded at him. “You be on your way, then. Good luck; you’re gonna need it one way or another.”