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)
I nod.
“Do you really want to go back to the city?” Sarah asks.
“The city was too full of bad memories, but it’s been a long time, and I can handle living there now if that’s going to make you happier.”
Joy radiates from her baby blues as she gazes at me. She’s practically beaming.
“So you want to move to the city?” I ask.
“No. I’m just happy you’re willing to make the move for me.”
“Of course I am. I’ll go wherever you want to go.”
“I don’t know why you should feel guilty about what happened to your sister. Like you said, you can’t help someone who doesn’t want your help, right?” she asks.
“Well . . . I tried to stop her.” I take a deep breath. “But I was in prison when she started hanging out with my friends who were into some kinky shit.
“These friends, they were running a pretty successful BDSM club in the city. It was secretive and exclusive, and my sister wouldn’t have gotten into that scene had it not been for my friends.”
My body jerks in surprise when I feel Sarah’s hand on my arm.
“Sorry,” she says, withdrawing her hand. “I was just trying to help you feel better. It sounded like you were blaming yourself, and I don’t think it was your fault.”
“Thanks,” I say, even though I don’t fully believe what she’s saying. Guilt has taken root within me and become part of my being by now. “By the time I got out of prison, her addiction was already in full swing. She’d outgrown the club my friends owned, and she was doing riskier and riskier things. And then, before I could help her . . . she was gone.”
Grief and regret covers my insides, thick and black like tar.
“Hey . . .” Sarah says softly as she rubs my arm. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“It sure as hell felt like it was. I knew my parents weren’t paying attention to her. I knew I was the only family she really had, and I failed her.”
Sarah wraps her delicate arms around me. “It wasn’t your fault,” she repeats as she plants a light kiss on my head.
“I was the one who introduced her to the lifestyle, Sarah. I felt responsible. Hell, I still feel responsible.” My brain replays the fuzzy memories from all those years ago. After my sister’s death, I went on a binge at the club, buried myself in pussy and only emerged, days later, vowing to steer clear of the scene.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Sarah repeats for the third time.
I pull her into my arms. “Thank you for saying that.”
“I’m serious,” she says, her doe eyes widening with sincerity.
“I know.” I give her a smile. “Don’t worry about me. What about you? Don’t you want to go back to the city?”
Sarah shakes her head. “I don’t know. I want to keep the clinic running. But I have to admit, my mom’s driving me crazy.”
I chuckle. “Let me worry about her.”
“She’s my mom. She’s kind of my responsibility.”
“We’re a team now. Your problem is my problem. Don’t worry. I have a plan.” I grin as Sarah eyes me suspiciously.
Sarah
“Are you sure about this?” I ask Luca for the hundredth time.
“We don’t have any other choice.”
The mood is somber as we huddle inside the cramped phone booth.
“I didn’t even know these things still existed,” I remark, trying to stall.
“What, a phone booth? Of course they do. What if your phone runs out of battery, and nobody will lend you a phone?”
“Or if you need to give the cops an anonymous tip?” I ask.
Luca grins. “Exactly.”
“I mean . . . I guess we’ve tried everything else,” I muse out loud.
“Yeah. We tried talking some sense into her, and she still insists on harassing us. She’s blackmailing us, Sarah. There’s no need to feel guilty about this.”
“You’re right . . .”
“You have such a good heart, Sarah. But if we don’t do this, there’s a chance she actually might make a report instead of just threatening us to do that.
“You know if someone looks into it and discovers the codes on your bottles look suspicious, you could get your license revoked. And then what would you do? What would happen to the clinic?”
It’s hot in this glass box. I wonder if it’s because this is essentially a small greenhouse. Or, maybe I’m just nervous.
This is a dirty tactic, and I don’t like it, but my mom’s essentially threatening to destroy everything that my dad and my brother worked so hard for their whole lives.
I don’t have any other choice.
“Okay.” I nod resolutely. “Let’s do this.”
The sooner we get this over and done with, the sooner we can get out of here.
After this unpleasant task, we’ll have a long, lazy day ahead of us. We can get brunch and chat over coffee. We can buy ingredients to cook together for dinner tonight. Or, we can skip dinner and have each other instead.