Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 144435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
"That…you…I…" I splutter, shocked silent for once in my life. It doesn't last long. "You've been stalking me on social media?"
He stares at me for a long silent moment and then he chuckles. "That's all you got from that, huh?"
"It's the only part I'm ready to deal with right now," I mutter defensively.
"Prop your foot up, pretty baby. I've got shit to do," he says, already headed for the stairs.
"Fine, but don't think we aren't talking about this later, Cord Decker!"
His laughter floats back to me.
I doze off on the couch before he makes it back with my phone. When I wake up, it's late afternoon, and I'm in the house alone. Snow falls in fluffy white flakes outside, blowing this way and that in the wind. It hasn't started accumulating yet, but it will before long.
I fire off a quick text to Emmy, letting her know that I'm fine and that I decided to stay overnight at the ranch because of the weather. I leave out anything remotely resembling an actual detail and hope she's too busy writing to grill me for more. When she doesn't immediately text me back, I know she's occupied and won't see it until later.
I also send a text to Rhys to check in. I don't get as lucky with him.
He responds immediately.
Rhys: Where are you staying?
Me: The Decker ranch.
Rhys: I don't like this, Cassia.
Me: That's because you're overprotective and a cop, Rhys. You don't like anything. I'm fine. The Decker family is wonderful.
Rhys: You know them?
Me: Yes.
It's not technically a lie. I might not know Cord well, but he did save me from his bull. I'm pretty sure that means he isn't going to murder me and hide my body. And I know he has a brother and a sister who live nearby. That makes them a family. Does my brother need to know that Cord's brother and sister don't also live on the ranch? Absolutely not.
Rhys: What's the address?
Me: You do realize you're a detective in Washington, right? You have no power in California.
Rhys: The address, Cassia.
I grumble and then send him the address. If I don't, he'll call me and raise nine kinds of hell. I love him to death, but he's impossible. Once he found out how our mother raised me, he lost his mind a little. I think he feels guilty for not being there to protect me, but it wasn't his fault. Had my dad wanted me, I would have jumped at the chance to live with him. I don't blame Rhys for avoiding spending time with our mom.
Besides, it's not like he really had a say in the matter. His dad won full custody before I was even born. The judge thought he would be better off in his father's care. He was right. Rhys had a father who loved him and a stepmom who would have gone to war for him. I wasn't as lucky.
People always looked at my mom and assumed she was great because she's beautiful and elegant. They envied her when they should have pitied her. Beneath those false smiles and polite niceties lies the shriveled, trembling heart of a woman constantly facing her greatest fear: Aging and its inevitable consequences. Love and empathy can't exist where fear and jealousy reign supreme.
It's not my size that bothers her, not really. Nor is it my job or any one single thing. It's the fact that she's getting older and can do nothing to stop it while I "waste" my youth and potential. The fat, socially awkward daughter of a socialite pageant queen is an embarrassment to her legacy. In her eyes, the way I choose to live my life is a personal slight. But even if I were her perfect clone, she'd still find fault with me. It doesn't matter if I'm happy because she isn't.
I prowl around until I find a bathroom downstairs to take care of business…and then I prowl around because I'm insatiably curious. Cord's home truly is beautiful. The hardwood floors gleam with polish, and there isn't a speck of dust to be found. Either he's a neat freak or he has an amazing housekeeper.
"Holy crap," I whisper, staring in shock at a photograph on the mantle in the living room. Cord's isn't the only familiar face staring back. The giant to the left of him in the photograph is the same giant who wrangled Hamburger on Saturday, and the petite girl between them is Cleary, the sweet girl who gatecrashed our dinner last night. She's Cord's sister. That's why she reminded me of him! The giant is a sibling too. Staring at the photo, the similarities are unmistakable. They share the same nose, the same lips.
Cleary is all smiles in the photo. Cord's lips are turned up into a crooked grin, his gray eyes light. The other brother isn't smiling though. He seems…sad? Pensive? I'm not sure either is quite accurate. He just seems unsettled. It's obvious he and Cord both adore Cleary though.