Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56591 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56591 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Grandma, of course, would smile for the photo. She has no idea what Aaron’s really like. As far as she’s concerned, he’s shown her love and care after reuniting. She’s forgiven him for everything.
“How long are you going to keep me waiting?” he barks when I climb into the car.
“I’ve done two shifts!” I snap.
“Easy,” he snarls. “Don’t forget who you’re talking to. Don’t forget who owns your ass.”
I shudder with disgust. What a pig.
“I could make quite the scene,” he goes on. “Today. It wouldn’t take much. All I’d have to do is walk in there and tell them she’s no longer welcome. Imagine all her screaming and bleating. And this sickness she’s got? I hear it turns into hell without proper care.”
“She’s in hell already.”
“So, you want me to stop the care?”
“Obviously not,” I hiss.
He laughs cruelly. “Then you need to do your job.”
I think about the memory drive and the files I photographed yesterday. I’m not sure if any of it is usable, but it shows Vale Construction splitting payments between various shell companies. Corporate fraud, perhaps.
“Care to share with the class?” he grunts.
“Excuse me?”
“You looked like you were thinking something important.”
“Nope,” I say. “Sorry to disappoint.”
He strokes his beard, looking closely at me. “It would be a dangerous thing to lie to me. This goes far, far deeper than you could ever comprehend.”
“I think I can understand wanting to deal drugs in low-income neighborhoods.”
He darts his hand out. Clamps it onto my leg and squeezes just hard enough to make me breathe through tightly clenched teeth. “I made a passing comment, and now you think you understand everything about us.”
“Us?” I say, refusing to let my voice shake. “Who’s us?”
“I said me,” he grunts.
He didn’t, but whatever. “Let go of me.”
“Hurry up.” He releases my leg. “And get the fuck out of my car.”
I flee from his car, wanting to scream or rake my fingernails down his stupid face. I want him to pay for daring to scare me, not just for myself, but for Grandma too.
Climbing into my car, I leave quickly. The road blurs as tears slide down my cheeks. I see Dom, of all people, the man I’m betraying. He grabs Aaron by his beard and violently yanks his head down, smashing his face into something. I don’t care what. Something hard, that’ll do.
Back in my apartment, I drop onto the couch and close my eyes. I need to kill the tears. Sobbing is out of the question. I can’t let myself devolve into a self-pitying mess. That’s not me, and it never will be.
My phone vibrates in my pocket.
A text from the boss.
Dominic Vale: So, do you play violin?
My mind goes back to the corridor, to how shockingly gentle his big hands were as he gently fastened my necklace. He was so careful not to hurt me. His hand was impossibly warm. And his husky breathing told a story that might exist entirely in my head.
When Kenny walked in, Dom left fast. Kenny—a short man with slicked-back brown hair coated in product—crossed his arms and looked at me for a beat too long. It was as if he were saying, Right, I see what’s happening here.
I quickly pushed past him, hoping he couldn’t see the heat blazing through me like wildfire.
I chew my lip, looking at the message. There’s being friendly with your employees, then there’s this, whatever it is. Why does he care if I play violin? Why does he care about anything beyond what I can give him as an employee?
Izzy: I used to. But it’s been a year. Or maybe even two. Time goes far too fast.
Dominic Vale: When did you start playing?
Izzy: When I was twelve. My grandma had a violin in the attic. She was going to sell it, but then she saw me playing with it and offered to teach me. She even started paying for lessons when she saw how enthusiastic I was. That was a big deal for her, because she’s never had much money.
I send the message quickly, before I can confront the cold fact that I’m oversharing. He doesn’t need to hear all this. But I can’t get that warm memory out of my head, his hands so gentle, his breathing so urgent, so… hungry.
Dominic Vale: That’s beautiful. She sounds like an incredible lady. Did your parents encourage you too?
Izzy: They weren’t around, unfortunately. They passed away when I was seven, then Grandma took me in. We had some other family members, but they were busy with their own lives.
This has gone too far. We’re delving into things we have no business going into.
Dominic Vale: I’m so sorry. That must’ve been awful, but at least you had someone there to love and support you. That’s the main thing. Did you love music? Or was it more of a hobby?