Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 143(@200wpm)___ 114(@250wpm)___ 95(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 143(@200wpm)___ 114(@250wpm)___ 95(@300wpm)
“You ever been to his place?” Mick asks as he stacks his last box near the door.
“No. To be honest, I don’t even know how we got to this point. I vaguely recall talking about how we were breaking up at the beginning of lunch and then at the end, I agreed to move in with him. It was all very confusing.” I tape another box shut. Why does Mick have four boxes and I have eight?
“Do you not want to go? Cuz I can unpack right now.”
I want to pinch his cheeks because I know very well he wants to move out of this hellhole. Who wouldn’t?
“I do want to,” I admit. “I’m just scared because what if it doesn’t work out? What if we move in with him and then three months later he’s like, ‘Nah, I’m tired of you guys’?”
Mick looks around our shabby apartment with its tiny kitchen and tiny living room with the windows where the views are the brick walls of a building behind us.
“Isn’t this all kind of a risk? No one really knows what’s gonna happen tomorrow, so we make choices for today.” He gives a little shrug.
I turn away to hide the tears that prick my eyes. My baby bro is all grown up. I don’t get more time to be sad because two guys show up to take the boxes.
“This all?” Griff eyes our stack with suspicion.
“We don’t have much,” Mick says, climbing into the back of the big black SUV that Griff brought.
“Guess we’ll have to change that.” He holds open my door. “Ordered some gaming supplies for a gaming computer. You’ll have to put it together, though. Not sure how that’s all done.”
Mick practically launches himself into the front seat, barely kept back by his seatbelt. “A gaming computer?”
“Yeah, your sister says you like to play League. I asked one of the guys at the gym, and he said real gamers put their rig together. He put in an order for you, and all the parts should be at my—our place— when we get there.”
“Those are damned expensive.” Mick rubs his chin. “I don’t have any money.”
“I know. Figured you could work it off at the gym. We need someone to wash towels, fold them, pick up, wipe down equipment, keep track of supplies. That sort of thing.”
His gym is downtown. It’s not fancy, but it is large. The main space is two stories and dominated by a boxing ring. Against the back wall is a huge media wall covered with television panels. Treadmills and workout machines are positioned to give the user a view of the screens. There are four smaller studio rooms for people to work out in if they want more privacy. There is also a sauna, a steam room, and a small pool area with a three-lane lap pool. “Hydrotherapy’s good on the joints,” Griff explains. The third floor is for administrative purposes. “I thought about installing some ancillary services for the members of the gym but haven’t gotten around to it.”
“What’s that mean?” Mick asks.
“Juice bar, office meeting spaces for the work-at-home people who want to get out of their house but not go to an office, IV therapy services, massage, stuff like that. Just don’t have the time.”
Mick soaks it all in. The fourth and fifth floors are occupied by Griff’s security firm with the top floor reserved for his personal space. The apartment is accessible by an elevator, but the entry way is only opened by voice and eye recognition. “For safety. I’ll have you guys entered into the system tomorrow.”
The elevator is swift. I’m grateful we don’t have to walk the stairs. The apartment is somewhat surprising. I thought it would be all black and chrome, but it’s surprisingly warm. The floors are oak, and the support columns are clad in white wood colonial trim. There are large rugs that provide color and help define spaces. A living space near the left corner, a dining space to the right of a long open kitchen.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got a bedroom and a loft. Next week I’ll get a builder in and we’ll erect some steel walls on the loft to give you some privacy, Mick. I think we can even get the elevator to stop on that floor so you can have your own entrance.”
“You don’t have to do that, man.”
“I know, but that’s what I would want as a soon-to-be twenty-something man. Your sister isn’t going to want you to move on any time soon, and there’s no need for you to do that either. Work at the gym, save some money, figure out what you want to do without the stress of room and board hanging over your head.”
Mick’s jaw tightens, and he gives a terse nod before heading up the loft stairs. It’s not because he’s mad, but he’s trying not to cry.