Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
She said some angry words, but that’s not why I left.
The way she was gazing at me, wide-eyed and full of naked desire—she wasn’t even trying to hide it. She let her guard down. She was letting me see her at her most vulnerable. She was so fucking tempting. She was practically begging me to unleash my caged monster on her.
Those tears she cried made me want to pull her into my arms to cry on my shoulder. At the same time, I wanted to spank her and make her cry even more; hurt her until she screamed out my name in a voice soaked in a heady concoction of pain and arousal.
Right now, if she wanted to, she could get back online on her phone and find some other guy to come here and fuck her up.
But my gut says she won’t—not just because she’s spooked at having just been found out, but also because the one she wants is PuppetMaster.
The one she wants is me.
But I can’t.
I’ve ruined lives and relationships before. I can’t let myself do that to Sarah, especially when she’s this vulnerable.
I need to hold myself together.
Somehow, I’ll have to survive living with her without even touching her. I know if I touch her, I’ll have to have all of her.
It’s an impossible task. But I’ll do it. Even if she’s not the only one who’s dying to fuck the pain away.
Sarah
True to his words, Luca knocks on my door in the morning.
He’s acting weird, though. He stands at least two feet away from me, and he only gives me grunts or one-word answers, no matter how hard I try to start a conversation. This is like the reverse of what happened right after the funeral when he tried to keep our conversation going long after I wanted to end it.
In his car that smells like cherries and musk, I try harder, starting with essential questions I’m pretty sure he’ll answer.
“What time are you going to pick me up tonight?” I ask.
“Six.” He doesn’t even take his eyes off the road, even though we’re stopped at a red light.
Still, that counts as an answer. Let’s see if I can get him to say more than one word at a time.
“What if I’m not ready by then?”
“I’ll wait.”
Ooh, two words.
“How long are you going to wait?”
Luca grunts.
Okay. No points for that one. Maybe my question was too open-ended.
“If it gets too late, are you going to sleep in the clinic?”
“No.”
One word. Damn. Let’s try a different one.
Oh, actually there’s something I do want to know.
“You said the clinic was dangerous because there were junkies who wanted to steal drugs from us. Was that true, or were you just trying to get me to move in with you?”
“That was a lie,” Luca admits.
Four whole words.
Luca doesn’t know we’re playing a game, but I’m totally winning.
When I thank him in front of the clinic, Luca just grunts. As soon as I close the car door, he drives away.
It’s like he hates me and can’t wait to get rid of me.
Jesus. How am I going to live with that ball of grumpy energy spreading gloom everywhere?
I have just enough time to shower and put on some actual clothes on myself before the vet tech, a teenager named Brian, shows up.
“I’m deeply sorry for your loss, and I wish we met under more pleasant circumstances,” the freckled kid says. No doubt he got some coaching on what to say from his mom before coming here. “Mr. Ellis was a great boss. I’m really going to miss him.” Brian drops his gaze as his eyes redden and fill with water.
“Hey . . . Uh, come on, now . . .” What do I say? I didn’t get any coaching from my mom—not that she’d know what to say in this situation.
Brian wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. “Sorry. I know we have a lot of work to do.”
“We do?” I’ve been getting a feel for the work my brother had been doing when he died, and I think I get the big picture, but I’m still fuzzy on the details. Luckily, Brian’s happy to show me what happens on the day-to-day level.
Because we were closed for so long, we now have a full day ahead of us. As it turns out, Brian had been scheduling appointments by phone from home.
“I just want to help out as much as I can,” he says.
“Are you a Boy Scout, Brian?” I ask as I rummage through one of my dad’s messy drawers, looking for a stethoscope.
“No. Why?” He shows up beside me, holding a black stethoscope in his hand.
How does this kid know I was looking for this? I’m liking him already.
“You’d make a good one,” I say.
When Luca picks me up, he quietly drags my wheeled luggage to the car, quietly puts it in the trunk, and quietly opens the door for me.