Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 41143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 165(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 165(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
May and Decker left for the Pennington House on the bluffs over Lake Michigan, gone a couple of nights. I'm as gone over Leah as Decker was the day he met May, and I know it. But I need to give her time after everything that’s happened. The last two weeks staying away nearly killed me, but last night when I saw her again, I knew right then I wouldn't be able to let her get away from me again.
The time is now, and I'm not wasting any more.
In the meantime, I've been making changes at my place. I already border on neat-freak territory, but this is different. I'm turning it into something that feels lived in instead of a hotel. No one would ever guess anyone lives there. I jet in and out on my way to work or the gym, and until recently, I never thought of it as home. Until Leah.
She's never set foot in it, of course, but I imagine her in every room: sitting at the kitchen table, lying in my bed, watching TV in the lounge. It makes me want to change everything for her. So I've gone shopping.
I bought fucking throw pillows, for crissakes. Sheets and towels I think she'd like. I even stop every few days to buy flowers and set them in vases around the place. Practice, I tell myself, for when I get her there for real. Because I need her to see it as home.
Not just a place she'd want to be, but a place where we could raise a family. That's how gone I am over this girl, and we haven't even been on a date. Not that I want to date her. I already know everything I need to know, and she's mine, she just doesn't realize it yet.
I think of her life before now.
The mansion.
The staff.
The limos.
It's a different world, and I won't pretend I haven't wondered whether what I can give her would ever be enough. She grew up in a castle. Money was never the question.
But I want to take care of her in other ways.
I'm not poor by any stretch. I've saved almost every dime I've ever made, because until now, I had no interest in spending it on anyone. I take care of my mom, but she's about the only thing I spend money on.
I want to take care of Leah's body and her soul, not just her bank account. I want her fed and rested and laughing, tucked in at night with nothing chasing her into her dreams. I want her happiness to be my job, because when she smiles, nothing else matters.
And I want to know about the Pop-Tarts.
"So." Henrietta pulls a side of beef out of the oven, a cloud of steam rising around her as she sets the roasting pan on the stove, grabs the knife, and starts carving out pink and brown pieces of meat. "Now what? You coming back to the house? What do you want to do, now you can do anything you want?"
"Well." Leah looks over at me and finds me looking right back. "I'm not sure what's left to do with the police and the attorneys."
Henrietta waves her quiet before she can go further. "You let those attorneys worry about that. You pay them. That's it. They take care of the rest." She waves the towel in her hand around her head. "Victor already took his deal, and Simon will plead guilty to something smaller. That's what you said, yes? So that means there is no trial. Yes?" Henrietta raises her eyebrows at Leah as her hands go back to serving heaping spoonfuls of mashed potatoes and cooked carrots onto two plates. When she's done, she reaches for that knife again. Seems she's more comfortable with it in her hand.
Leah opens her mouth to argue, but a single glare from Henrietta kills it.
"No ‘buts’. You get on with your life, Zabka, they stole enough from you already. Right?" She stabs the knife in the air toward me again, and I grin. She's a tough piece of leather, I'll give her that, but she's not intimidating me. I like her. "Am I right? She needs to go live her life. Young, beautiful girl like her, locked up in that house for all those years. It is time she looks after Leah."
"I agree. One hundred percent." I lean back in my chair and watch Leah roll her eyes, but she can't fight the smile pulling at her lips.
What I want to say is that it's time someone looked after her. And that someone is going to be me.
"Good. See?" Henrietta swishes her knife, pointing it at Leah. "May doesn't need you taking care of her anymore. You did a good job, but now you take care of Leah. Look after Leah." Henrietta's eyes shift, and she sets the knife on the table, opens up a cabinet, and pulls out a white-capped, orange prescription bottle. "You haven't been taking your medicine. I count, and they're all still here." She shakes the full bottle like a rattle.