Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
“And I changed my mind,” Gordon tells him.
“You discussed whether or not I’d go to Texas? Without me being present?” Ophelia asks.
I sit back and grin, take a bite of my French toast and watch, happy not to be the one who has earned Ophelia’s annoyance for a change. I mean, she does have a point.
“Well, yes,” Gordon says, both he and Horatio looking at her like they don’t understand the problem.
“First, before I decide anything, I want you to explain how you two are sitting here at the table together eating breakfast. Because as far as I know, you hate each other.”
The two men look at one another. “We misunderstood each other,” Horatio says. “I told you the last time I saw you, Phee, that everything I did, wait, let me amend, everything I did after Claire died, I did for you. I would do it all over again for you. I see now that Gordon and I, well, our goals are aligned. We both want the best for you. We just don’t quite agree what that best is, do we?”
Ophelia opens her mouth to answer but before she can, a cell phone rings. I recognize the ring tone. It’s the phone I gave to Ophelia once I got mine back.
“Sorry, I’ll silence it,” she says, opening her purse to dig out the phone which stops ringing by the time she gets to it. She sets the phone on silent as it buzzes to alert her of a text. When she reads it, her eyebrows furrow, and she glances at me across the table.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Sullivan Fox’s funeral. It’ll be later this week.”
My teeth clench. “Was that Ethan calling you?” I ask, feeling that familiar burn of anger and, if I admit it, jealousy, at the thought of Ethan ever having been with her. “You’re not going,” I say, but she ignores me and turns back to Gordon.
“After that, I’ll come,” she says.
“You’re not going to his funeral,” I repeat, leaning in to make sure she hears me.
“Fair enough,” the old man says to her, as if I haven’t spoken at all.
26
OPHELIA
“Why do all the men in my life feel like they can make all the decisions for me?” I ask as Silas unlocks the front door of the brownstone and lets me in.
“I don’t want you near that family. I’d think that would make perfect sense to you. Besides, why would you want to go to Sullivan Fox’s funeral? He was a puppet master pulling your strings for years.”
Hearing it is harder than I’d think and I’m glad he can’t see my face. Behind me, I hear him drop the keys on the table by the door.
“I never said I wanted to go, did I?” I ask. He sets the duffel down and follows me into the kitchen, where I put my purse on the counter and slip off my coat. I drape it over the back of a stool at the bar.
“You’re giving me fucking whiplash, you know that?” he asks.
“Did you hear me say once that I wanted to go?” I snap, not masking the annoyance I feel as I spin to face him. He’s closer than I expect.
He raises his eyebrows, clearly surprised. “It was implied,” he says and doesn’t move or give me an inch of space.
“I said his funeral is later this week. I didn’t say I’d go. I haven’t decided if I’ll go. But afterwards, I do plan on traveling to Texas. I can understand if that’s where my grandfather wants to be, and I do want to get to know him at least a little while I can.”
“Yeah, see that’s another thing.”
I throw my arms up in the air. “You’re unbelievable.” I try to take a step away, but he sets his hands on either side of me on the counter and cages me in.
“You’re taking things very lightly. There’s been a murder, Ophelia.”
“I know, Silas. And I’m not taking things lightly, but I can’t just be afraid all my life. Can’t let everyone else make all the decisions and do the living for me.”
“I’m not. Christ. Until I know Chandler is no longer a threat, until I know who killed Sullivan Fox and am sure they’re not a threat, you are staying right here where I can keep an eye on you. I don’t care if you like it or not. You will stay put!”
“I don’t like your ultimatums.” I try to shove him, but he tugs me closer.
“I won’t take any chances, not with you, and if you’re going to be pissed at me for it, then so be it.”
My cell phone buzzes in my purse and he cocks his head.
“Was it Ethan texting and calling you earlier?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Was it him?” The phone goes off again. Shit. I wish it would stop because I’m pretty sure it’s Ethan. Who else would it be? “How the fuck does he know the number, O?”