Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Chapter Fourteen
Sparrow
I can’t sit still, wearing a hole in the rug in our living room as I pace back and forth in front of the window wall. Hell, I even scrubbed all three bathrooms earlier because I needed to expel some energy. I’ve been like this all damn day. Ever since seeing Landry. Cleaning and pacing. It boils my blood that she has a big-ass bruise on her face. Furthermore, it pisses me off that she’s protecting someone.
All fingers point to her father.
She’s eighteen, though. Why the hell does she put up with it? Is the family fortune really worth it to her?
If I could have my mom back with us, I’d give up the suits and cars no matter how much it would pain me. It’s just money and stuff to me—something to entertain me while time slowly creeps by.
Landry obviously has her reasons, but what are they?
I’m missing part of the picture and it’s driving me crazy. If Sully doesn’t get more information from her this afternoon, I’ll be forced to take on his job, too. His heart isn’t in it.
It’s not because I want to see her more. Nope.
“I can hear your thoughts,” Scout says from where he’s sprawled out on the sofa, the television remote resting on his bare chest. “Loud as fuck, little bro.”
Little my ass.
We both know I can take him in a fist fight. It’s been proven many times over the years. He’s crazy as fuck, but I’m relentless and unstoppable.
“Just thinking,” I growl. “Since when do you care?”
He laughs, cold and distant. “Since we started sharing the same real estate in Mom’s womb.”
Liar.
Scout doesn’t care what I’m pissed about. He just likes to pretend he does.
“You got more tatts.” I motion to his chest that’s littered with scars and a lot more ink than I remember.
“Yup.”
The sun is setting on the horizon and a few stray rays of light highlight a strip of dust across our dark gray wood floors. I itch to hunt down a broom and mop, but that’ll only entertain Scout and I’m not in the mood for his shit.
“Fucking expensive,” he says, drawing my attention back to him. “But worth it.”
A giant bluish-gray serpent is hiding behind beautiful orange and red exotic-looking flowers of all sorts. Interesting.
“You know, if you’re bored of walking back and forth, you could always clean my room,” Scout offers, not at all helpfully. “I’m sure there’s laundry you could do.”
Laundry.
The only Laundry I wouldn’t mind doing isn’t here.
Scout goes back to flipping through the channels while I try my damnedest not to continue to pace the living room. Sully’s not replying to my texts. I just want to know how this afternoon went for him and if he managed to pluck anything else from Landry.
I go back to brooding but only for a few more minutes before the front door opens. Heathen is making some demonic half-meow, half-growling sounds from her carrier while Sully bitches at her for being evil and useless. He releases her from her cage and she bolts across the room, a flash of black fur. She launches herself up onto the sofa and then prances over Scout’s chest, curling herself on the snake tatt.
Fucking fitting if you ask me.
Match made in hell, those two.
Scout strokes Heathen’s fur, not even bothering to gloat to Sully that the cat likes him more. Sully ambles into the living room and falls into one of our beloved recliners.
I study him intently, looking for any answers he might have regarding Landry.
He’s smirking. In a pleased-as-fuck sort of way. It rankles me. I pop my knuckles on one hand one by one, the loud cracking sound echoing in the large room.
“What are you so happy about?” I demand, unable to keep the venom out of my tone.
Sully grins at me, wide and victorious. “I kissed Landry.”
The blood running through my veins thickens like molten lava, scorching me from the inside out. Both my hands curl into fists.
Why am I so pissed off?
It’s the damn job.
Because it’s Ivy Anderson all over again. In the ninth grade, we thought it’d be great for one of us to go out with Ivy and then see if she could tell us apart. We’d take turns pretending to be Sully. It wasn’t until we all had our turn with her in bed—and a pregnancy scare—that we didn’t want to pretend anymore. I didn’t want to be Sully. I wanted to be Sparrow and I wanted to take her out on real dates—dates where she’d say my name, not his.
But Ivy didn’t take too well to being duped.
Not only did she break up with Sully, but she also told her lawyer dad that we tricked her. Our teenage prank turned into restraining orders and police involvement. It took a lot of Mom’s money and a free tummy tuck for Ivy’s mom for it to finally go away. They dropped the charges after making us sweat it out for a few months and then Ivy went to live with her aunt in California.