Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96714 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96714 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
“You would?”
“Yup.” He nods. He shifts his hold on me, wrapping his arms around my waist, so I can lean against his side. “I’ll do something for you, and you’ll do something for me.”
I’m scared to ask what exactly he expects from me, but somehow, I doubt it will be worse than what his father was going to do to me.
“I guess if you don’t have the balls to do it, you don’t.” Preston’s demeaning voice drags me back to reality.
Feeling the deep need to resolve some of his disappointment, I say, “I’ll help if I can. Like, if there’s anything I can do to make it easier for you, I’ll do it. I just don’t think I could actually do the deed itself.”
“Hmm. Now that you mention it, that’s not a bad idea. Even if you can’t kill her, you could make it possible for somebody else to do it. That would work.”
“Great. Whatever you need, I’ll get it done.”
My hand tightens around the phone until it hurts. She took Nash away from me, and now she gets to walk around like she owns the place while I have to live locked in a guest room.
“Okay. Make sure you’re careful with the phone. Don’t let anybody see you with it. I’m not sure I could manage to get you another if you get caught with it.”
“I won’t.” For now, it will live along with the scissors hidden under the mattress.
“And I’ll have Marcel let you know if I need to talk to you.”
“That works. I’ve got to go,” I whisper into the phone.
Preston doesn’t respond, and a moment later, the line goes dead. I do the same thing and end the call, which is good since the door opens and the shuffling of feet and laughter filter into the space.
I’ll wait here until they leave. I don’t trust myself to go out there right now, anyway. If I ran into Aspen, I might have to pull every hair out of her head and shove it down her throat until she choked on it.
The longer I think about it, the more convinced I become. I’ll do whatever it is Preston needs.
Aspen must die. There is no other way.
20
LUCAS
“I know you think I’m devastatingly handsome, but you don’t have to stare at me like that.”
Lauren’s lips twitch, but she won’t give me an actual smile. She wouldn’t let me gain that much ground, especially not when we’re on her turf—in the middle of a session.
“I’m waiting for you to say something, which you know very well. As usual, you’re using sarcasm and charm to disguise what’s going on inside.”
“So you think I’m charming.”
Her brows draw together, and her mouth screws up until it’s almost invisible. “Lucas. Are we always going to do this dance? You know how seriously I take my work, even when it comes to you. Maybe especially when it comes to you.”
“Thank you.”
“And I don’t feel as if I’m doing my job when all we do is sit here and go back and forth. I’m not serving you as your doctor when we spend half our time bantering before you finally decide to get real.”
“You want me to get real?”
“I’d appreciate it very much.” She follows the direction my gaze travels in. “Maybe without the Scotch this time. I’d rather speak with a clear-headed version of you.”
The clear-headed version of me isn’t in the mood to speak. It looks like we’re at an impasse.
“Let’s go back to what we discussed in a previous session.” She crosses one leg over the other, tapping her pen on that blank notepad. “How are you managing your relationship with Aspen? How are you two doing together?”
“Pretty well. Taking it slowly, but I believe we’re headed in the right direction.”
She nods slowly. “Can you tell me why you scowled when I mentioned her name?”
“I did?”
“Like you wanted to rip my head off.”
I scoff, folding my arms. “You would know for sure if I wanted to do that.”
“Come on. Out with it. Why does the mention of her name stir up that reaction?”
I wasn’t aware I had that reaction. I’m still not sure she’s being straight with me. “Why would Aspen make me feel that way?”
“I’m asking you, remember?” She leans forward, her brows pinched together like she’s in pain. “I know you carry guilt over that night, but you couldn’t have known what would happen. I’d like to go over a few exercises to help you release that guilt.”
“Do I strike you as somebody who does emotional exercises?”
“No. You strike me as someone who allows emotional pain to fester until it eats away at them from the inside out.”
I’d crack a joke, but I’m not in a joking mood anymore. I wasn’t in the first place. She sees straight through me—I’ll do anything to keep from talking about my feelings.