Total pages in book: 209
Estimated words: 196141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 981(@200wpm)___ 785(@250wpm)___ 654(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 196141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 981(@200wpm)___ 785(@250wpm)___ 654(@300wpm)
“Amen,” echo Kyle and Elias with similar breathlessness, as if the air has fled the room.
Jessica lets go of their hands. Her warmth has returned, all trace of suspicion gone from her face. “My pastor is on-call,” she tells them, “as if I truly am on a mission to deliver Brock from evil. Truly, he is,” she insists, likely in reaction to a flash of surprise on Kyle’s face. “He’s willing to send a troop from the church up here to help find Brock, if need be. There are even some local churches that can assist, too. I assured him that sending a Christian army likely wouldn’t be necessary. As if I’ll be facing a horde of blood-drinking Satan worshippers …” She lets out a hearty laugh that sounds more natural than all her others, as if truly finding the idea of such horrific things existing to be absurd. She is at once chipper and sweet again. “I’m ever so grateful you gave me this time. Bless the both of you for letting me interrupt your morning. Oh, let me leave my number in case you hear anything. I’m staying at a hotel in Boulder City, did I say already? They offer free breakfast. Asher is probably up by now eating eggs and pancakes. The eggs are fine, but the pancakes are total rubber. I should go back now, check on him.”
Kyle glances through the crack in the window once again, at the teenager in the car, who seems to have given up on his game, frowning through the windshield, weary of the world.
Does that teenager believe his dad is gone?
Does he care?
Elias is the one to see Jessica out, Kyle standing well away from the door and the morning sunlight that pours in. When at last the door is shut, the men stand in silence for some time, reeling in the aftermath of her visit.
Kyle is the first to talk, his voice small. “Do you think—?”
“No,” says Elias at once, turning from the door. “She has no idea at all. She can guess a thousand things and still wouldn’t even be in the ballpark. She has no hope of finding him.”
“That … does not make me feel better.” Kyle goes to the kitchen, every step slow and labored, exhausted, as he crouches down to fetch Little Lion’s empty bowl off the floor.
Elias comes up to the counter, sighs. “I’m sorry. I bet a part of you wanted to tell her the truth, just to ease her mind.”
“No, actually.” Kyle stops pouring cat food. “I didn’t want her to know anything. I just wanted her to leave.” He bows his head. “I think that’s what’s making me feel worse.”
Elias brings his arms around, hugging Kyle from behind. A silence falls over them, the two saying nothing more.
Kyle lies in bed as the daylight hours pass, the room dark enough to sleep, but he can’t seem to. He listens calmly to the sounds of Elias walking around the house tending to things he’s assumed responsibility over since moving in, as well as working on the sun deck, the noise of which doesn’t bother Kyle at all. But even hours later, he still can’t shut off his mind—Jessica’s words haunting him, seeing her face only in the moments when she looked the most suspicious and cold. It reminds him of how she was like as a teenager, policing everyone at school … class president, teacher’s pet, all of her smugness and pride …
What if she pokes too deeply into the mystery of Brock’s fate? What if she asks the wrong question to the wrong person?
What if someone at the House of Vegasyn decides she’s something that needs to be dealt with and silenced?
All the fears lead down the same winding road to a person Kyle was certain he would never wish to see again.
Tristan.
As much as Kyle hates to admit it, Tristan is the only other person on the planet who’d know what to do in this situation, where to begin, whether they have anything to worry about.
Hours later, however, Elias does not apparently share the same enthusiasm. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
“I’m not,” says Kyle, hugging his knees to his chest.
“Did you sleep at all today? Even one hour? How can you even jokingly suggest that we meet with him?” Elias is already pacing the bedroom in a storm of thoughts, his emotional boat rocking at sea, nearly capsized. He’s afraid, yet trying to mask it with strength, just like he did in the shower last night when they were washing blood off of each other’s bodies. “The point is to keep away from all of that bullshit, from those pompous fiends who nearly killed you, who nearly fucking ended you …”
“Have you forgotten our little visit last night and how that motherfucker almost ended you?”