Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 157162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
He turned his back on me, heading for the fridge where he pulled out food he was cooking for dinner, his way of ending the conversation.
Though my instinct was to argue with him—on the account of my newly discovered fragile ego about what I could and couldn’t handle when it came to Calliope Derrick—I kept my mouth shut, staring at the black eyes of the spider cake on the counter.
My brother’s warning was not something to be taken lightly.
Neither was Calliope Derrick.
The smart thing to do was to leave it where it was, at one night together, appetites sated, having tasted the kind of ruin she’d promised, then stay far away from her.
I was known for doing the smart thing.
But no way in fuck was I ever going to be sated by just one taste of Calliope Derrick.
Ten
Like Real People Do — Hozier
CALLIOPE
The second I got the message on the burner phone only one person knew the number of, dread unfurled in my stomach. Bitter. Rancid.
There were only two words in the message:
A gift.
Then coordinates.
Following the coordinates was foolhardy. Otherwise known as fucking stupid. But I knew Jasper had done something, and no way was I going to let my brain run away on me.
I was as smart as I could be. I drove to the next town over, rented a car using the credit card for a shell corporation I owned. It could still be traced to me if someone was looking close enough, but it was all I could do without actually breaking any laws.
My palms were slick with sweat and my stomach churned as I drove on back roads, following the GPS into dense woods where the road turned to dirt, the car bouncing as I hit potholes.
When the road ended, I squinted at my phone, trepidation licking up my spine as I got out of the car. I was armed, a gun in the jacket I was wearing that stuck out on the warm summer day. My boots squelched in the mud as my gaze darted around. I seemed to be alone. Maybe I’d driven myself to my own murder scene. So deep in the woods that no one would ever find me.
My heart thundered against my chest as I risked a glance to my phone to orientate myself before stepping off the dirt road into the woods.
A stupid idea. Really stupid. But I knew that if I didn’t go out there, Jasper would do something else closer to home. I was glad whatever this ‘gift’ was wasn’t anywhere near my family.
And I was about 80 percent sure I’d be walking out of here. There were no signs of humanity in the twenty minutes I walked through the dense wood, dread swimming through my bloodstream.
Then I came to it.
My gift.
Lying in a shallow grave.
Naomi Weathers.
Clara’s mother.
The woman who had been discharged from the hospital only a couple of days ago.
The woman who Jasper had murdered.
As a ‘gift’ for me.
Though I could barely hold it down, I forced my body not to vomit. The last thing I needed was my DNA at the scene. And I couldn’t be sure Jasper wasn’t watching from somewhere. Tearing my gaze away from the body with the single bullet hole between the eyes, I scanned the trees for a dark figure. Nothing. Then I looked to see if there might be a camera mounted somewhere. None that I could see, at least.
I wanted to scream. Cry. Curse the world. I felt hopelessly adrift with no lifeboat in sight. Calling the police was out of the question. Same went for my brother. I was alone in this. As I should’ve been.
Alone with the weight of my sins. With what I’d given to Clara and what Jasper had ensured I wouldn’t be able to hold as a good deed. I’d unleashed him on Naomi to potentially save her life, but because of that, Clara would never know her mother. Naomi might’ve gotten her shit together, grown a heart.
Jasper ensured she wouldn’t. He ensured that I’d carry that with me. He had done it to sever my ties to Jupiter. I didn’t know how much research he’d done about my life there, but he recognized that I wouldn’t be able to walk around and face those people with this knowledge. He was closing off all exits that didn’t lead back to New York.
To him.
I swallowed bile, squeezing my eyes shut, self-hatred and regret washing over me in a repetitive, unyielding wave. Oh, how I’d been able to distance myself from the consequences of my choices, my arrogance, my greed. But now it touched the corners of my life, this body a harbinger of the rot I’d bring to Jupiter if I stayed.
My phone buzzed. Not my personal phone. The burner. Only one person it could’ve been. The person who left me this gift, this warning, this new stain on my soul. I wanted to ignore it. Fuck, how I wanted to ignore it. But that would only create more problems.