Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 106774 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106774 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
I nod, giving her a final look, and then slip out the door.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-ONE
Gray
My headlights light up the dark, dead-end street as I creep my way toward Astrid’s house. It takes every ounce of self-restraint not to slam on the gas and race the last few yards to her. But it’s late, and people are probably sleeping, and I can’t make my problem anyone else’s … anymore than I already have.
Astrid’s car is in the driveway alongside a small blue coupe that I haven’t seen before. Who the hell is that?
I park beside the curb and am practically out of the truck before I turn off the engine. I jog across the lawn, vaguely aware of the exhaustion settling in my bones, and rap my knuckles lightly against the door. There’s too much energy coursing through me to stand still—too much anticipation of the upcoming conversation with Astrid, so I try to peek in the windows for any signs of life. I should’ve called her and warned her that I was close by, but figured I’d let her sleep as long as I can.
“Come on, sweetheart,” I mutter, knocking again—a little louder this time. “Please answer the door.”
Finally, a light turns on in the hallway and the door handle turns.
I start to step forward, my heart in my throat and words touch my tongue, but I recoil when I realize it’s not Astrid greeting me. It’s taser girl.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, dressed in pajama pants and a tank top. Her hair is wild and her eyes groggy like she’s been asleep.
“Is Astrid home?” I narrow my eyes, stopping myself. “I’m sorry. What’s your name again?”
She sighs. “I’m Gianna, and you aren’t seeing Astrid tonight, so fuck off.” She starts to close the door, but I catch the edge with my hand.
“Excuse me?” I ask, flinching. “What do you mean that I’m not seeing Astrid tonight? She’s expecting me. I told her that I was going to come by when I got back to town.”
“Cool story, bro.”
“Gianna, please,” I say, unnerved by the look in her eyes. I’ve been through far too much today to deal with her. “I need to talk to Astrid.”
She glances over her shoulder, then turns to me. The icicles she throws my way would kill a lesser man. “I’ll tell you what you need, Gray, and that’s to get in your truck and go home. I just got Astrid to fall asleep, which was no small feat tonight since you left her a fucking mess. She’s finally resting, and you aren’t waking her up. Period.”
I left her a fucking mess? I lick my lips, as my mind spins. Yes, I talked fast on the phone and it probably could’ve been construed to be suspicious, but she should know I’d come back and explain … right? “Is she mad that I left town?”
“The fact that you’re asking that question is indicative of the problem.” She lifts a brow. “Is she mad that you left town? Theoretically, I’d say no. But when you don’t tell her and flee in the middle of the night, and she discovers on her own that you were not flying to an emergency like you said, but were rather meeting a woman named Liza in Colorado … yeah, Gray. It’s a little suspicious.” Her jaw flexes. “If you know anything about Astrid at all, you can deduce why this is a problem.”
The porch drops out from under me. I blink once, then twice, trying to wrap my head around what Gianna just said.
There’s no way that anyone knows where I went today. I told no one—not a single soul. So, how does Astrid know about Liza?
I gulp.
What else does she know?
I swallow a surge of panic and try to control my breathing. Getting frantic won’t do anyone, least of all me, any good. Oh, God. Bile creeps up my throat as the gravity of the situation lands on my head. She thinks I’m lying to her. She thinks there’s another woman.
She probably thinks I’ve been playing her like every other man in her life has played her in the past.
I’m going to be sick.
“In order to expedite this conversation and get you out of my face, I’ll throw you a bone since you seem to be … perplexed,” Gianna says. “You left a letter on your kitchen counter.”
“Oh, fuck.” I hiss a breath, my heart pounding erratically. “She doesn’t know what she read. Please, Gianna, let me see her. Let me explain.”
“If I had my taser, I’d tase you for fun.”
I growl. “I’m not in the mood for your dark humor.”
“Well, I’m not in the mood for you. So kick rocks, dude.”
“I just need to explain … Astrid!”
She steps into the hallway behind her friend, looking shocked to see me. Her eyes are swollen, and her lips are puckered together. She’s been crying.