Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 95080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
“It’s so what?” I asked, staring at her hard over the rim of my coffee cup.
“It’s so sexy,” she said honestly. “He just exudes raw sex appeal. You must know.”
Raw? No. Breckin was smooth and sensual. There was nothing dangerous or wild about the man. Not like Cord. “I do,” I replied woodenly.
“You just look at him and your thoughts go carnal. His confidence is a magnet. I’m surprised you don’t have to beat them off with a stick.”
“I wouldn’t know.” I clipped my words. “Normally, if people persist in trying to get his attention, he gets a little hostile and cold.”
“You don’t have to tell me about hostile and cold. I am now clearly on the receiving end of hostile and cold,” she told me, and looked down. When she raised her head back up, tears had welled in her eyes. She looked ready to break down and sob. “I didn’t mean to get pregnant. We used condoms. I can only hazard a guess that one of them broke. It was a long night.”
Really, I could have lived my whole life without hearing that, but she was being honest, and I had asked for the brutal truth. And the question was why: Why did I need the brutal truth? Why did I care? But it was like the documentaries I loved. I wanted the whole picture, the anatomy of the end of a relationship. Suddenly I could see how the whole thing—Breckin and His Lovers, dun-dun-dun!—would make a great three-part limited series on Netflix. Of course, it wouldn’t be interesting to anyone without the stalker thrown into the mix. It was very run-of-the-mill infidelity without that part. The mystery was what would make people tune in. “Did he spend the night with you?”
“Yes.”
“You two woke up in the morning together?”
“He was gone when I woke up, but when I fell asleep, he was there with me.”
There was a long silence before I asked her another question. “Why did you think I was the one trying to kill you?”
“For the obvious reason,” she huffed out. “I’m sure that one case of infidelity you could forgive to keep a man like that, but the baby thing, that’s a whole other ballgame, isn’t it?”
“Actually, the infidelity in and of itself was enough. And not because of the act—or acts, rather—but because of the loss of trust. I mean, once the trust is gone, what do you have?”
She was silent.
“There has to be that.”
“If it means anything, he’s always maintained he loves you.”
“Stop,” I scoffed.
She sucked in a breath.
“If he was really in love, would he have cheated?”
Quiet a moment, she then met my gaze. “Love and sex are two separate things. It’s irrational—to me, at least—to think that a surge of feeling would keep one from an indiscretion. A physical act with one person has no bearing on an emotional connection with another.”
“So you don’t think I should feel his commitment to me diminished in any way because he slept with other people?”
“I think the idea of monogamy was a lovely premise when everyone was dead at thirty-five. But now…it’s outdated at best.”
I sighed deeply. “I always knew I was obsolete.”
She smiled at me.
“Listen, are you scared about all this with your car and everything? Are you okay?”
Clearly, she was relieved we were changing the subject. “I’m terrified. But Inspector Nolan seems to have a good solution, don’t you think?”
“I haven’t heard the solution yet.”
“Oh.” She sounded surprised. “Well, he thinks it’s not safe for either of us to stay and be around our families because we might inadvertently put them in danger.”
“That makes sense.”
“Yes. I mean, think about it. Some guy was here in your father’s house last night. How many more of these would-be killers do you want to come here? That’s really scary. I’ve been staying with my mother, and I don’t want anyone to hurt her. So I’m going to do what the inspector suggests.”
“Which is what?”
“He thinks that whoever is behind this wants to eventually confront Breckin, so where better to do that than at his parents’ home in Fieldcrest. In Vermont.”
Funny how she thought she was telling me something I didn’t know. “Go on.”
“Well, so he thinks we should all go to Vermont to visit Breckin’s parents, and there, with us all together, he can protect us and draw out the killer.”
“That’s awfully risky for Breckin’s family.”
“From what I was told this morning, the inspector has already spoken with them, and they gave him the green light. They’re not scared—they’re pretty big in their community apparently, and have a close relationship with the local police.”
“Must be nice,” I said, leaning forward and putting my mug down on a coaster on the coffee table. “But I would think they’d still have concerns.”
“I don’t—” She looked flustered. “They’re not worried, that’s all I know.”