Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 74428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
"Roderick."
"Roderick," Astrid mused, rolling the name off her tongue like she was testing out the sounds. "Maybe the next time you pop over, you could bring a reed diffuser."
"He won't be popping over since he is not popping over now. He's trespassing and making demands."
"Oh, what kinds of demands?" Astrid asked, moving over to the table, sitting down, kicking her feet up on it, twirling my gun around on her finger like a toy. A loaded, lethal toy. "Is it for our virtue? Because, sorry to break it to you, Roderick, but that ship sailed a long, long time ago."
"Way to make us sound like..." Liv started, only to be cut off.
"Like women of a certain age who have enjoyed the company of men?" Astrid suggested. "Yes, yes we are that. Uh oh," she said after what sounded like the ding of the elevator. "Daddy's home. It was nice knowing you, Roderick," Astrid told me, pointing my gun at me, making a clicking noise just as the sound of footsteps moved into the doorway.
My head turned, finding the man they had referred to as Camden. He stood in the doorway with his usual box of - what had to be pastries of some sort and a tray of hot drinks on top.
His gaze shot to Liv, then Astrid, then finally me, a low, growling noise rumbling through his chest.
"He wants his guns back," Liv explained as Camden stomped across the room, dropping the box and tray down on the table beside Astrid's feet, reaching out to cock my gun with what sounded like a reproachful grunt, like he didn't approve of the fact that she was playing with it instead of pointing it at me like Liv was doing.
"I did explain we unloaded them already. Well, two of them anyway."
"He didn't bring us a reed diffuser," Astrid added, making Camden's head swivel, brows drawn low in confusion.
"Astrid is accepting his gun as a hostess gift," Liv explained. "Now, maybe you can escort our guest back to the hallway," Liv suggested, making Camden nod and move toward me.
"He can escort me all he wants. I'm not going anywhere. I need the guns. And you're going to get them for me."
"Keep dreaming, bud," she suggested, waving with her gun as Camden shoved me toward the door.
The next day, the same routine.
I showed up when Camden was out.
With a reed diffuser.
And while Liv was in the shower, Astrid - the nut - let me in.
I had a feeling while Camden was the brawn and Liv the brains, Astrid was the wild card, the one who couldn't be trusted or underestimated.
"Settle in," she suggested, waving me in. "Mama dukes will be out in a minute."
"Are you in the habit of inviting strange men into your apartment?" I asked, quietly closing the door behind me.
"Only the cute ones. Besides, you brought a gift," she told me, already tearing into the box, ripping out the glass container full of mauve liquid, pulling out the seal, then sticking the reeds inside it.
While she turned her back on me, rearranging the mail - meaning tossing it onto the floor - and putting the diffuser into place, I got a chance to look around without a gun pointed at me.
It was a giant, open space with the whole front lined with oversized diamond windows with no curtains.
To the far right in the front was a somewhat oversized L-shaped kitchen with stainless steel everything - countertops included - and gray cabinets. On the wall above the sink where there were no windows were three lines of chunky wooden shelves holding an assortment of plates, bowls, glasses, and a shitton of mugs. The island was empty save for someone's tablet, the shelves under it holding a dozen or so pots and pans.
Several feet from there was a simple square table with three chairs. Three. One for each of them. Like they never imagined there would ever be a fourth person in their lives. Two coffee mugs sat there - one floral, one earthenware.
To the left was a giant dark gray sectional with an oversized ottoman, pillows and blankets - not one matching - scattered around along with laptops and what looked like a bag of Doritos held closed with a hair clip.
There was a TV sitting on top of an entertainment system a few feet from there, big enough that I wasn't sure they could have gotten it in the elevator. Butted up in the furthest corner facing the window was their Christmas tree - giant - covered in perfect lights and an assortment of ornaments that almost seemed handmade from afar.
From inside, off to each side were hallways boasting what seemed to be two bedrooms on one side and a bedroom and a bathroom on the other.
You could hear the water running in the shower, smell the lavender vanilla scent of body wash wafting out under the door and into the loft.