Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 141464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
“Yeah, and?” he asks, clearly confused.
“It’s yours if you want it.”
His cheeks redden. “I don’t have enough to rent a place on my own and—”
“No rent. He keeps it for members of the club who need a place to crash. It’s empty right now. Guy who was staying there just moved in with his girlfriend. As a favor to me, my friend who owns the building is willing to let you stay there.”
“Why don’t you live there?”
“I got a place down in Union. But like I said, I’m up that way a lot.”
“Sleeping over at your girlfriend’s?” He raises his eyebrows, looking like a scandalized ten-year-old who just learned that sex isn’t always about making babies.
“Yeah. And my club has some business interests out that way.”
“Your club has businesses?”
“Yes,” I say sharply. “But that’s not your concern right now.” I glance over his too-thin frame. “You ever been inside a gym?”
“No,” he scoffs. “Mom believed in chores and nature for exercise.”
“Well, a friend of mine owns a gym and he needs someone to help out. Answer phones, stock towels, keep the place clean, shit like that I guess.”
He blinks at me. “So?”
Christ. Do I have to spell this out? I hold out one hand. “I got an apartment for you to stay in.” I lift the other. “And a job so you can earn some money.”
“Wait, what?” His fork clatters against his plate. “An apartment? Like, just for me? A job? How? Why?”
“Why?” I repeat. “You’re my brother. And you just told me you’re basically homeless. So, if you want to stick around, I can help you with the basics.”
His eyes turn glassy. He glances away, swallowing hard and blinking rapidly at the wall. “I thought this was a fuck-off lunch,” he mumbles.
“What?” I laugh.
“Like, you just wanted to chat and maybe catch up.” He flicks his hand in the air. “And then when your curiosity was satisfied you’d say, off you fuck now, kid.”
Instead of laughing, I blow out a weary breath. Yeah, I can understand why he’d think that. “No, I don’t want you to fuck off into the sunset, Cain.”
He chuckles and sniffles at the same time, wiping the corner of his sleeve under both eyes. “Why can’t I stay with you?”
“Like I said, I’m not there a lot. Plus, I live in my friend’s apartment. There isn’t a lot of extra room.”
He fixes me with a sharp, unsettling stare. “And you don’t trust me not to rob your friend’s place?”
Why lie? The kid’s not dumb. “Well, yeah. Kinda.”
“But I can stay at your other friend’s place?”
“It doesn’t have any valuables,” I say with a straight face.
He snorts, then glances back down at his plate. When he looks up again, the humor’s gone. “I don’t steal.”
“Okay.”
“And I don’t take handouts.”
“Which is why I helped you find the job,” I answer, barely holding onto my patience.
He fiddles with his fork, tapping it against the side of his plate until I want to rip it out of his hand. “Mom always said you saved our lives.”
I swallow hard. “She did?”
He nods quickly, eyes darting away.
It doesn’t seem like the right time to dig into that, but my curiosity overpowers my common sense. “How much do you remember about living on the farm?”
He spears me with a haunted stare full of horror. “Too much. I still have nightmares about it.”
“I do too sometimes.”
He stabs his fork into the mac and cheese and shovels a huge glob into his mouth.
We eat in silence for a while, the clink of silverware and low murmur of conversations filling the space between us.
“Your mom helped save my life,” I finally say. “She…helped me leave. He probably would’ve ended up killing me, otherwise.”
“We tried to leave once.”
“Really?” I raise my eyebrows. Surprised Ruth had it in her. The little I knew of her seemed so meek.
“Didn’t get far.” He pokes at his potato, jaw tight.
“How’d you end up in New Mexico?” I ask.
He shrugs. “We were in southern California for a while, but it was too expensive. She liked the art community there.”
“Did you like it?”
“Yeah. It was okay.” The corners of his mouth twist up, but there’s no joy behind it. “Anywhere I didn’t have to sit through four-hour fire-and-brimstone sermons or get my ass beat for blinking at the wrong verse felt like heaven.”
“I’m sorry,” I say quietly. “You were…young. He didn’t start…hitting us and stuff until we were older.”
He frowns at me.
“Uh, I had two older brothers…We had two older brothers. They were…long gone before your mom came to live there, though.”
“Where’d they go?”
I shrug. “I don’t have any proof, but I think our father killed them.”
His face pales. “I used to think he was a monster sent by the devil himself to test us.” He hits his hand against the side of his head a few times, the ring on his pinky glinting under the lights. “He was always screaming about sin, punishment, and how the devil tricks you.”