Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 30657 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 153(@200wpm)___ 123(@250wpm)___ 102(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30657 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 153(@200wpm)___ 123(@250wpm)___ 102(@300wpm)
My parents would never let me get an animal. I wanted one so badly, but I knew continuing to ask wouldn’t get me anywhere. After a while, I stopped asking. To be honest, I started to worry about having a pet around my brother. I knew he would somehow use it against me. He tended to do creepy things. The more intense he got, the more erratic he became. I could see the anger inside of him, always trying to get out. I'm unsure of the origin of this anger, whether he was born with this disposition or if something happened to him. I’ll never know. He doesn’t open up to me. Even when we were little, he was closed off, making it impossible to be close to him. We’ve never had that twin connection that everyone else raves about.
“Calling him Cat.” I glance over at the man who has been watching me since I stepped into his luxurious loft. I’m not sure what to call this place. It’s pretty freaking cool. I haven't done a full-on snoop-around mission yet. The fluffy ball has caught my attention.
“You know what?” I laugh. “I don’t even know your name.” I’ve known him for an hour. With everything that has happened, you would have thought it was longer. I turn my head to fully face him. Even sitting, the man is imposing. He stands out in the space, not because he’s a giant, but because everything is clean lines and modern. Everything has a place.
He is gruffer with thick black combat boots, jeans, and a black shirt that molds to his muscled body, but not like one of those body builders. No, he’s more barrel-chested. He doesn’t spend hours in the gym—okay, maybe he does—but I picture him ripping logs in half with his bare hands and bending solid metal beams.
“Do you not have one?” I let out another laugh. “It’s like pulling teeth with you.”
“You have no idea.” He abruptly stands.
“I’m sorry.” I put my attention back on the kitten. Did I push too hard? Me and all my questions. I thought knowing his name might be fine, but I guess he’s deep undercover for whatever it is he does for my father. The idea of him working with my father leaves a bad taste in my mouth, but maybe it’s the government side. With all the high-tech electronics in this place, I’m going to lean toward the government. That makes it safe. At least compared to some of the people I’ve spotted my father with.
“They call me Church,” he finally answers.
“Church?” Interesting. I bet it's a cool code name. I wonder what he did to get it. He runs his hand across the top of his head, like he’s frustrated. His hair is dark but buzzed down. Bet it feels good against the palm of your hand. Where the heck did that thought come from?
“Call me Abel.”
I smile. Why does it make me feel special that I got a second name from him?
“It kind of goes with Church.”
He grunts a response. “You can name him if you want.” Abel motions toward the kitten. I’m actually not sure he’s a kitten. I think he’s in-between.
“Really?” I reach out and pet him. I chew on my bottom lip. “This sounds like a lot of pressure.”
“Think on it.”
“Because I’m going to be here for a bit?”
Abel shrugs at me.
“I don’t like when you do that.”
“Do what?” He steps back. I'm noticing that he'll get close to me, then drift away again. It's as though he’s unsure of where he should be. Which isn’t fitting. Abel is definitely a man who knows where he belongs, and if he doesn’t belong there, he’ll do it anyway.
“Not answer me.” Do I sound pouty? I’m sure I do. I’m sitting criss-cross applesauce on the floor, playing with a kitten with teddy bear pajamas on. Do adults call them pajamas? What the heck do I know? “Never mind. It’s fine.” I swiftly express my thoughts before he has the chance to respond. Not that he is going to, or if he does, it takes forever.
“I answer.” From the corner of my eye, I glance back at him. I try not to stare right at him. Then I might drool or make a fool of myself. It’s easier not to embarrass myself by doing something dumb like shooting him with my dorky finger guns.
“It’s fine.” This time, it’s me who shrugs. I’ll keep to myself and not bother him.
“Are you hungry?” I shake my head no. “I can cook.” This man continues to surprise me. I want to ask so many more questions, but I just shake my head again, pulling the kitten into my lap. He curls up into a little ball. “I’ll make something in case.” I don’t respond. “I got you a TV." His boots cross in front of me. My head stays down on the kitten.