Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Recognizing the deep, Scottish-accented voice, I pinched the bridge of my nose.
North.
Well, I suppose this meeting was inevitable. Crossing the room, I grabbed my rental car keys off the side table and pulled open the door.
Sure enough, North stood on the other side, hands in his pockets, a scowl marring his brow. “You’re alive.” He brushed past me, pushing into the room.
“And on my way out.” I turned with a beleaguered sigh, closing the door behind me. “But do come in.”
North faced me, arms now folded over his chest. “I don’t enjoy having my calls screened. Especially after having the news dropped on me that a bloody serial killer found his inspiration from a part I played.”
“A part I wrote, old boy. Imagine how I feel. I dreamed up a twisted, complicated bastard of a character, one I was proud of … until someone brought his wicked misdeeds to life.”
Sympathy gleamed in North’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for both of us. We created him together, so you’re not alone in feeling unsettled by this.”
“Don’t you mean guilty?”
“No.” North shook his head. “We made a TV show, Theo. Like hundreds of creators before us have done. It is not our fault some sick fuck decided to carry out those murders.”
Growing agitated because he was distracting me from my distraction, I scrubbed a hand down my face. “I don’t want to think about it today, so if you’re quite done …”
He cocked an eyebrow. “What? Leave? Very nice. Is that it, then? You’re ghosting me like I’m a flexible gymnast you’ve grown bored with.”
Ignoring the jab at my previous sexual exploits, I shrugged with more nonchalance than I felt. “Believe it or not, you were one of the few people in this industry I didn’t mind having around. Thought I could trust you. Until you blabbed like a tween to Sarah’s cousin and sent him after me.”
“I won’t apologize for that.” North shrugged. “I was protecting Sarah. To get involved with her was wrong, Theo.”
“Why?”
Anger flickered over his face. “Because she’s a grieving member of staff at this estate who can barely say boo to a goose, and you shacked up with her when she was at her most vulnerable.”
“Sarah is an intelligent, talented thirty-one-year-old ex-member of staff, and she knows her own mind.”
“She doesn’t know you.”
“Do you?” I asked, losing my patience. “Do you actually know anything real about me, North, other than my work? No,” I answered for him, and his chin jerked back in surprise. “You don’t know a damn thing about me. But Sarah does. She knows me better than anyone. And I swear to God, if you try to come between me and Sarah again, I’ll ruin you.”
My old friend gaped at me, stunned. Silent.
“You can leave now.” I gestured to the door.
“Theo.” North took a step toward me, gaze searching mine. “I’m sorry, mate. I … I clearly got the wrong end of the stick.”
“Yes, you did. A stick that is rammed thoroughly up your arse.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “I suppose I jumped to conclusions. I’ve just never known you to be serious about anyone.”
I looked away, still not entirely comfortable with the strength of feeling I had for Sarah but willing to deal with it to keep her. “I never thought I’d be serious about a woman again.”
“Again?”
“There was a woman when I was younger. We met at uni and dated for a while. Thought I loved her. She … she had an affair with my father while my mother was dying. Then she married him and stayed with him until he grew bored and traded her in for a younger model.”
North’s eyes widened in shock. “Fuck, Theo … that’s brutal. I’m sorry.”
“Yes, well, never really had much interest in relationships after that.”
“Until Sarah?”
Rubbing the back of my neck, I gave my friend a rueful smile. “She’s rather special. Don’t know what she sees in me.”
North grinned and clapped me on the arm. “No one does, mate.”
“Oh, fuck off,” I said without heat, turning to the door. “Literally. I have to pick up Sarah for the party tonight.”
“She’s coming here?” he asked as we left the room.
“Yes. Problem?”
“Of course not. I just wondered if I could tell Aria about her writing under S. M. Brodie. She was worried when Sarah suddenly quit the estate.”
It was clear from our conversation with Sloane Ironside and Monroe Adair the other day that Sarah had told them about her writing. “I don’t see why not. She’s telling other people now.”
He grinned. “Good. I’m looking forward to seeing you two together.”
“I’m never living this down, am I?”
“You once called me a brain-addled romantic and said that falling in love would end badly for me. Of course, I’m holding this over you.”
“I also, if you remember, was the one who advised you to give Aria your trust. And how did that work out?”