Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 169305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 847(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 847(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
“If you want to quit, quit. Sometimes quitting is braver than persisting.” I tipped her chin up, forcing her to look at me. “But if you’re quitting because you’re afraid of what others think, that’s bullshit, and you’re stronger than that, Farrow Ballantine.”
“I’m not quitting. Well, I don’t know yet.” She sighed, pulling at the fuzzy nylon threads on the trunk flooring. “I guess my point is, I thought I was independent, living on my own, fighting Vera my own way. In reality, I had Dad’s help—more than I thought I did—and yours.”
Ask me for help, Farrow.
You’re not alone.
I’m your one-man army.
Before I could reply, she sat up, dusting off her hands. “Can we head home?”
I studied her face, unable to get a read of her and hating it. “Of course.”
“I think it’s time to finish our Go game.”
Idecided I’d miss the naked French woman preparing for a bath most. Almost enough to ask for her as a keepsake, but I supposed that would defeat the purpose of my plans.
I memorized the row of paintings in Zach’s office as a doctor tended to my nonexistent wounds. The real wounds couldn’t be cured with a stethoscope and first aid kit.
I needed time, but I’d heal.
I knew I would.
Zach orbited around us, fussing over every burgeoning bruise as if I’d picked a fight with a honey badger.
“She’s fine. A little scratched up.” Dr. Sullivan set down his cotton swab. “Nothing major.” He paused a beat. “Not nearly as serious as a sliced finger.”
Ah.
I knew I recognized him. Oliver’s family doctor. The one who had tended to Brett Junior after the kitchen incident.
When he finished tidying up, Zach ushered him out the door, returning a few minutes later.
I nodded to the Go table. “We should continue our game now.”
No point in putting it off.
“Rushing off to somewhere?”
“And if I say yes?” I raised a brow, dipping a toe into the water, feeling the knot in my stomach tightening.
“Depends. Where?” He paused. “And for the love of God, do not say Monowi.”
“You don’t believe in God.”
“No, but I do believe someone out in the universe is messing with me.” He claimed his usual seat at the table. “Seriously, though. If you say Monowi, I might nuke the city.”
I slid into the plush upholstery, lifting the lid off my bowl of stones. “How?”
It wasn’t lost on me how light our conversation had gotten. As if both of us wanted to shy away from the obvious trouble looming.
As always, he picked up a stone with perfect etiquette. “Have you forgotten that our neighbor is an arms dealer?”
I countered his move with the most ruthless one I could think of. “Right. Well, I guess I better spare the sole resident of Monowi.”
He frowned at the board. “This could last all night.”
“I have good stamina.”
“That may well be, but I plan to wear you out nice and good.”
“We’re still talking about the game, of course.”
“Of course.”
Four hours later, he gained control over the board. Neither of us had said a word the entire duration, instead concentrating on the stones.
He seemed deep in thought by the time I finally gathered the courage to broach the subject.
I reclined in my seat, linking my fingers together on my lap. “I resign.”
His eyes darted up from the stones. “Excuse me?”
“I have no moves left.” I unlinked my fingers, gesturing to the board. “Congratulations. You won.”
“I won?”
“Yep.” I nodded, doing my best not to melt into oblivion. “You won the pendant. Fair and square.”
Sorry, Dad. Are you disappointed in me?
Somewhere along the line, Zach and I had agreed to leverage the pendant as the award. Over time, the game had become foreplay rather than competition.
I didn’t think either of us really realized what we’d done. Judging by Zach’s tense shoulders, he must’ve forgotten what we were playing on.
“Farrow.”
I shook my head, shooting up. Wanting to say goodbye to the pendant one last time.
But a few steps in, I realized only one of the pendants sat in the glass case. Not mine.
My mild reaction startled me. I thought I’d break down, pivot, demand an explanation. But the confrontation with Vera had sucker punched me in the skull, rewiring my brain.
Vera, Reggie, and Tabby spent their lives amassing material items, unable to satiate their thirst. They committed crimes, ruined lives, and never understood the harm they caused.
I didn’t want to turn into them.
Would I love everything Vera had pawned back? With every fiber of my being.
But I refused to let their absence dictate my emotions.
If I focused on what I didn’t have, I would never appreciate what I did have.
“Talk to me, Farrow.”
“Drink?” I detoured to the whiskey cart, poured two glasses, and sat on top of Zach’s desk, swinging my legs. “I think we’ll need them.”
He padded to me, ignored the proffered drink, and stepped between my legs, resting his chin on my shoulder. A few months ago, he couldn’t even lay a pinky on me. “What’s going on in that chaotic head of yours?”