Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 128307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
When I glare at him through my screen, his cheeks redden, aggravating him further. He hates that he’s a blusher, and it sees him folding in under thirty seconds.
“Rumors are spreading like wildfire that Macy is pregnant.”
“Yeah, and?”
He takes my frustration in stride. “The same people who once said you guys had a thing are spreading them. They’re saying you’re her baby daddy.”
I scoff as if the idea is preposterous. “That would be a little hard considering I haven’t seen her in person in over three years. My dick is big, but I doubt it can stretch across the country.”
Brandon wrongly reads between the lines, preferring to go in that direction rather than imagine the size of my cock. “So you guys hooked up previously?”
I don’t know what the fuck his hand gesture means, but he needs to stop immediately before masturbation is off the table for me as a way to relieve stress.
“No, we haven’t.” I drift my eyes to the bedroom door to make sure it is still closed. “Macy is a friend and colleague. That’s all she has ever been.” My jaw involuntarily quivers during my last sentence. Usually, it is a telltale sign that I’m lying. This time around, it is more in disappointment and anger.
Macy and I became close while working together; however, things changed quickly after I let her plead self-defense for a murder she didn’t commit.
I’m also not looking for a relationship. Not now or back then.
How can I when the one I entered seventeen years ago never officially ended?
Needing to get this conversation off my failures, I say, “I know you miss seeing my handsome face, pipsqueak, but I called for a reason.”
Brandon raises his chin. That is the entire scope of his reply.
“I need a favor.”
“Anything,” he says without pause for thought.
Over the next twenty minutes, I tell him about Macy’s extensive investigation and the mass of evidence she has gathered.
“But since she’s wary of inputting her findings through the appropriate channels, I don’t have access to ViCAP or any other software that could unearth something months of reading won’t find.” Again, my eyes flick to Macy’s bedroom door. “I don’t have the hours to keep this a manual process. I need help.” Since I delivered my last line to Brandon, it was less difficult.
He proves that the money he’s made developing software since leaving the bureau hasn’t changed who he is. He has a good heart. “Send me everything you have. I’ll run it through a system better than ViCAP. I’ll have the results to you within the next twenty-four hours.”
I appreciate his offer, but sending all this paperwork by fax would take weeks.
When I tell Brandon that, he laughs. “Does your apartment have a smart TV dangling pompously above almost everything in sight?”
I look at the television mounted on a far wall, then drag my eyes across the boards positioned directly in front of it. “Yep!”
“Then barring an occasional request for you to flip a page, that’s all I need.” Brandon winks before the television turns itself on. “You’ll need to watch your daily dose of porn on your phone to get off today. And please stroke your cock in the bathroom. I can see almost every inch of your apartment… including the red face of a heavily pregnant woman who looks unwell.”
I follow his line of sight when a groan reverberates through my ears. Macy stumbles out of her bedroom and sluggishly walks toward the kitchen. From behind, you’d have no clue she is pregnant. She is the same five-foot-seven, one-hundred-and-fifty-pound-ringing-wet agent she has always been. Front on, though, she looks like she swallowed a beach ball—and that ball appears to be causing her a lot of pain.
“Is she all right?”
I answer Brandon’s question robotically. “Yeah. Let me know if you need anything more than the occasional page flip. If not, I will await your report.”
“The only thing I need from you is for you to leave everything where it is. The rest is on me.” His tone changes halfway through his reply. “Use the next twenty-four hours wisely, Grayson, and not solely for sleep.”
Although his shady tone piques my suspicion, I’m too focused on Macy’s pained expression to pay it much attention. “Consider it done.” Before I hang up, I stare at the screen and say, “Thanks for the help, punk.”
“Anytime.”
After ending our chat, I dump my phone onto the only inch of the coffee table not taken up by files before joining Macy in the poky kitchen. Lines etch on her forehead as she breathes slowly and shallowly.
“Are you okay? You’re looking a little unwell.”
With her hand on her chest, she scrunches up her nose, grimacing more. “I think I’m having a heart attack.”
I pfft off her worry with a chuckle. “You’re too young to have a heart attack.” While guiding her to the chair where she sat earlier, I say, “It is most likely heartburn. The tomato paste on the pizza was a little acidic. I’m even suffering a bit of indigestion, and I didn’t gorge down slices like my stomach isn’t currently as squashed as my bladder.”