Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 138169 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138169 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
“Lovely, Miss Grey. We’ll see you then.”
He doesn’t sound like he’s trying to be slimy, but it still sounds unclean.
I wrinkle my nose, then slide off my stool, stretching and rubbing my aching neck.
I head upstairs to change into something presentable—an instinct now, to cover myself as much as possible around Xavier—and leave a quick note for Grandpa on the kitchen table.
I glance into his room before I leave.
He’s folded up, sleeping with that little whistling snore he’s always had, a tiny squeaking whisper that used to make me giggle.
But his hands are bandaged.
The prescription bottle of anti-inflammatories on the nightstand looks nearly empty, when he shouldn’t run out for another week or two. That tells me it’s bad, and if he keeps going this way, he might accidentally overdose.
Oh, Grandpa…
Sneaking in, I kiss his wrinkled forehead, then ease the keys off his nightstand, folding them tight in my palm so they don’t jingle.
It's moonless when I step outside, the clouds low in the sky.
Even the streetlamps feel dimmer, turning the night into grey mud—or maybe it’s just my mood.
I hate seeing Xavier Arrendell this late.
Even worse, I hate the messy feelings about taking his dirty money, considering the source.
But it’s for my grandfather.
When it comes to family, I’m no better than anybody else. I guess my morals bend.
Only for Grandpa?
Wasn’t your moral compass spinning like a ballerina the second you joined Micah’s little schemes?
Oh my God, I can’t.
Not right now.
I still can’t process the whole DEA thing, and that takes a back seat to the bone-crushing way he ended things. I don’t need to show up at the big house upset and vulnerable.
Just the thought of what Xavier might do with that makes my gut lurch.
If that creep tries to hug me, I swear only one of us is leaving that house alive.
The truck does a lot of lurching of its own as I drive up the hill. It might just die on me again, but I wasn’t walking out there alone this late at night.
Still, the old girl makes it. Barely.
When I pull up, I see Joseph Peters has, in fact, left the light on for me. Just a lonely lantern next to the tall double doors, a gold beacon guiding me toward his slim, wary figure as I park the car and climb the steps.
He looks tired tonight. Troubled.
Maybe his conscience is starting to drag him down.
“Mr. Peters.” I smile.
“You’re welcome to call me Joseph.” I wonder if he’s defrosting a bit. But he reaches for the door to open it, then stops, and suddenly his arm is a barrier as he gives me a long look. “You really shouldn’t be here tonight, Miss Grey. If I told you to turn around and go home, would you listen?”
My heart stops.
“What? Why? Do you know something I don’t?” I search his face.
“No,” he says, shaking his head. “I simply know there are people here tonight who prefer not to be seen—and it would be unwise for you to see them, Miss Grey.”
What people?
The Jacobins?
That rips at my heart, but I mask it behind a numb smile.
“If I’m going to call you Joseph, you should call me Talia. Look, I promise I’ll be in and out. Less than five minutes. I’m just picking up a check before Xavier leaves the country.”
He gives me a long, heavy look that makes me realize I would never be one of the final girls in those movies—you know, the ones who survive because they listen when the creepy, seemingly crazy old man with the bulging eyes warns them before they head into the woods where their friends will be murdered.
I mean, Joseph doesn’t really fit the crazy old man bill, but…
I’ll be fine. He’ll be close by.
What could happen just by sneaking in to grab a check?
Joseph’s look lingers a little longer.
I check to make sure my phone is in my bag and that app Micah had me install is on the main screen. Even if we’re strangers again, I still think he’d come running if I needed him.
“I promise,” I repeat with a smile that’s braver than I feel. Everything in me screams to turn around and go home, forget the check. But I can’t forget my grandfather’s bandaged hands and that nearly empty pill bottle. “Five minutes. Go ahead and count. I’ll keep my head down and avoid eye contact with anyone else. And you’ll be there, won’t you?”
The look he gives leaves me so uneasy.
“Hurry. He should be in his office.” Silently, he pulls one of the double doors open and waits for me to enter.
For once, I lead the way with Joseph close behind me like a shadow—guardian angel or stalking demon, I don’t know. My back suddenly feels too exposed and it’s a little harder to breathe.
Stop it.
You let him get inside your head.