Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 163209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 816(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 816(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
“Thank you, Coach,” he said. “They could really use a pick-me-up.”
“I can imagine,” Rhemann said. “I assume they’re still at the hotel?”
“No,” Jeremy said, dragging it out as he thought. Figuring out how much to say was easy; Rhemann had known about the FBI since the police first cornered Jean at the Gold Court this summer. The coach listened in dead silence as Jeremy explained their visit and the pressure to move into a specific building, and Jeremy finished up with, “They’re probably safer now than they’ve been in months, but I don’t like it. Agent Browning said they won’t bug the apartment itself, but ...”
Rhemann considered that, then asked, “Any updates from the Dermotts?”
“They’re still looking into it, last I heard,” Jeremy said. “No news yet.”
“And your parents?” Rhemann asked.
Jeremy drummed an agitated beat on his steering wheel as he turned into Rhemann’s neighborhood. “I’m not safe with Laila anymore.” His mother’s decision, and it stuck in his throat like a stone. “I thought about telling Mom the FBI is involved, but I think that would rattle her even more. I’ll just keep my head down until she changes her mind. Maybe she’ll feel better after my LSAT exam.”
Without Jean’s car in the driveway, it was easy to pull in behind Rhemann’s ancient ride. Jeremy put the car in Park and said, “I’ll let you know if anything else exciting happens.”
“Let’s take a break from excitement for a few weeks,” Rhemann said dryly.
“No arguments from me, Coach.”
He waited for Rhemann to get inside before finally turning his car toward home. William had the door open for him before Jeremy even reached the porch. As Jeremy moved past him, the butler said, “Your mother is at work until seven. Mr. Wilshire is on a conference call in his office, but he asked to see you when you arrived.” He locked the front door behind Jeremy and took his keys. “I will let you know when he is off the phone.”
“Great,” Jeremy said, with no enthusiasm.
William spoiled the surprise for him: “They are going out of town on Tuesday. Arnold has invited his sons to attend a fundraising gala with him.”
Jeremy knew better than to get his hopes up, especially when William looked so serious. They wouldn’t take Jeremy with them, but neither could he expect freedom in their absence. They’d called him home knowing they wouldn’t be here to keep an eye on him. Testing his obedience, he assumed; it wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last. He swallowed a sigh and said, “I’ll be upstairs until then.”
“I will start some coffee,” William promised.
“What would I do without you?”
He expected William’s usual response, but the man only said, “Let us not find out.”
Jeremy interpreted that the only way he could: his parents were in a fouler mood than usual. He swallowed every protest that none of this was his fault and took the stairs up to his room two at a time. The bed he dropped onto was heaven after a night on the floor at Laila’s new place, but comfort came hand in hand with grief. He didn’t want to be here, and he didn’t want to be there, either. He wanted the cozy home he’d built with Cat and Laila and Jean.
We’ll make a new one, he promised himself, but it was hollow comfort in this arctic space.
He didn’t mean to doze off, but William woke him an indeterminate time later with a hand on his shoulder. Jeremy scrubbed the grogginess out of his eyes as he sat up, and William handed him a mug of coffee once he was on his feet. Jeremy buried his thanks against the rim as he preceded William out of the room. He probably could have drained it before he reached Warren’s office, but facing his stepfather empty-handed rarely turned out well. He rapped on the doorframe, waited two minutes for Warren to acknowledge his arrival, and let himself in.
There were two chairs on this side of Warren’s mahogany desk, but Jeremy knew better than to sit without an invitation. He stood between them instead, holding onto his mug for dear life, and waited for Warren to finish his busy work. The squeaky scratch of Warren’s pen was nearly as aggravating as the too-loud second hand of Warren’s expensive watch. Jeremy tolerated it as long as he could, then sucked down half of his coffee in a noisy slurp. It worked as intended; his stepfather put his work aside to fix him with an irritated stare.
“You wanted to see me,” Jeremy said.
“Your mother and I are flying to Boston tomorrow morning,” Warren said. “I trust you will conduct yourself appropriately in our absence.”
Jeremy affected surprise. “Implying I can ever meet your standards? That’s new.”
“I’m only going to say this one time, so listen up, you little faggot.” Warren sat back in his chair and folded his hands across his stomach. Jeremy went still as stone to stare at him, coffee forgotten. “The attitude goes, or you do. You are on thin enough ice as it is right now; the next time you fall through I will stand at the edge and watch you drown. Do you understand me?”