Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 94220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“So the mood swings are better?”
“Yes, that’s what I meant by better,” I snap before catching myself. “Sorry. I’m stressed. And annoyed that I had to get up early.”
I schedule these sessions at six a.m., knowing Leif won’t be up yet. To make this lifestyle functional, I try to build my schedule around watching him. But it’s been more than that. The past few days, since he’s visited with Detective Roth, I’ve been even more on edge than usual.
What did she tell him? What does he know about me?
“You can’t trust that guy,” I imagine her saying. “He had a horrible manic episode that led to him trying to get an innocent man implicated in a crime he didn’t commit.”
Shitty that if she told him that, he might never want to speak to me again. Even shittier that it’s the truth.
“Do you feel you’re having issues with your sleep cycle?” Jesse asks.
Oh, you have no idea. The only thing that’s made it all tolerable is that the security cameras have AI monitoring, so I can create a notification alarm in my app to know when Leif’s on the move or someone’s outside the house. Unfortunately, there’s also a squirrel who really enjoys hanging around his place, who’ll sometimes set off the same alarm, and fuck, that’s annoying.
“Eh, I’ll live.”
I interpret her head tilt as disapproval, and I intercept her comment. “It’s fine. I’m doing all the right things, and I’ve been eating better recently.”
“That’s good to hear.”
The chili he brought over is likely the last meal I’ll ever get from Leif Anderson, but it was sweet of him while he didn’t think I was going to murder him in his sleep. At least I got a few days of leftovers out of it.
We chat about other everyday stuff, and I keep evading what I’ve really been up to before she asks, “So is there anything you wanted to discuss today? Maybe your brother?”
“What’s there to talk about? The cops are done with him. Now he’s fucking gone, and I’ll never know why.”
“I hear a lot of anger and resentment.”
“Those seem like tame words for what I’m feeling. Hard to get over the loss of the only guy in this world who’s ever really understood what I’ve been through.”
“Is that what you expect? To get over it?”
“I just wish I had answers. It’s the uncertainty. Thinking that he could walk through the door tomorrow, or I might never see him again. It’s a fucked-up world. And a lot of times it felt like it was the two of us versus it, and now he’s gone.”
At least there are some things I can still be transparent about.
“Especially with your childhood together, I can understand why you would feel that way. It was only the two of you with your father.”
I flash back to a moment with Dad, his eyes wide in that way that made me uncomfortable as he adjusted a gun in my hand. “You did better that time. Now again. Come on. Only two kinds of men in the world: those who know guns and those who don’t.”
“Dad, you’re scaring me.”
“You need to be scared, Zane. It’s the only thing that’ll keep you alive in this messed-up world. I might not always be around to protect you guys, so I need you to be my strong one.”
But I don’t want to be strong.
I tense up.
“Can we not talk about that?”
“We’ve discussed this before. Is there a reason you’re uncomfortable with it today?”
“I just don’t want to go there.”
Jesse never pushes. I’ve seen enough therapists to know it’s her job to only talk about shit I feel like talking about, but damn, she sure knows how to pick at a tender wound.
After we finish our session, I get some shut-eye.
I’m in and out through Leif’s morning routine. I’m lucky he’s mostly a homebody—aside from trips to the store, the gym, or around the neighborhood or the park for a jog. Today he doesn’t get out of the house until four in the afternoon, when I tail him to Kroger. I keep at the far end of the parking lot, and I have no doubt he’s seen me already. I’m sure he’s noticed me whenever he’s run an errand after I told him what I was up to, but he hasn’t called the cops on me, so maybe it’s ridiculous to assume that Detective Roth disclosed all my dirty secrets.
Or maybe she’s got people tailing me right now?
Am I being paranoid?
Maybe these meds aren’t working.
No, stop it! It’s not my fault. It’s how Dad trained Mike and me—that’s what Jesse’d say.
When he’s finished shopping, I tail him back to his place, but when we get to his house, he pulls into my driveway, parking by the garage doors.
The hell?
I pull in beside him, and as we get out of our cars, he heads to his trunk. “Will you give me a hand with these?”