Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
“Yeah, well, that part was just for fun,” he admitted, letting out a chuckle. “How long do we have to be gone?”
“I’m hoping a week, two tops,” I told him. “But when I say to pack warm, I mean it. It will be a solid ten to fifteen degrees colder. And we are trying to beat out a bad snowstorm, so we have to leave tonight,” I told him, pouring my coffee, tossing some sugar in it, stirring, then making my way to the door. “So be at my place in an hour, packed and ready to go.”
With that, I headed back out, dragging out my luggage, and stuffing all my winter outerwear into it, along with my usual suits since there was an image to protect when it came to the Family.
Sure, there was that awful period where it was all oversized bowling shirts that looked good on nobody, but this new generation, we brought back the suits.
Five minutes shy of an hour later, there was a buzz from Gav, making me double-check my apartment before heading down.
“That’s your winter jacket?” I asked, noting his plain black peacoat. Appropriate for wearing over a suit? Sure. To defend you against twenty-something-degree weather? Not so much.
I had a similar outer style, a double-breasted black coat with three rows of two decorative buttons, but it was lined. And it had a hood.
I was almost feeling bad about dragging his clueless ass with me.
Almost.
But not enough to tell him never mind, that he could head home, that I didn’t need any help.
Technically, I didn’t.
But I wasn’t letting him off the hook anyway.
“What?” I asked when Gav let out a grumble for the second time in the past hour after glancing over at the dashboard.
“The temperature has dropped twelve degrees in an hour.”
“Yeah, welcome to Maine, man.”
I didn’t think it was the time to inform him that when I’d double-checked the forecast to make sure we would arrive ahead of the storm, I’d found that two days after the storm, they were predicting unseasonable cold. Shit like minus twenty kind of cold.
And there he would be.
In his fucking peacoat.
“We’re only twenty minutes away now,” I told him, seeing the sky starting to split with the beginnings of morning.
Then, three degrees lower again, we were pulling up the driveway.
I’d spent a long-ass time in that house, hiding out to keep from the Families getting into a war over my reckless actions. Still, I had no real feelings toward it as it came into view.
It was a simple, traditional white cape with a deep green front door that, in the warmer months, made it seem like it blended in with the overgrown snowball bushes that grew along the front, and the massive tree that hung over the home, providing shade.
There was a white picket fence, cobblestone path, and a balcony off the primary bedroom that let you look out over the sea.
In the winter, with some snow already on the ground, brown from the plows I’d called ahead to make sure the driveway was cleared, it looked a little bleak and sad, sitting alone without a single light on.
When I’d left, I’d made sure that there was a timer on for two lights, but the lightbulbs must have blown out, and the lady I had in twice a month to clean and check things out must not have noticed.
“Nicer than your apartment,” Gav concluded as he looked at the building.
I would bristle at him if he wasn’t right.
My apartment was nicer than his, but it was no penthouse.
And, objectively, I’d only put a small amount of effort into making it homey since my plan wasn’t to be there longer than another year or two.
“Don’t get too excited. You’re sleeping on a twin-sized bed,” I told him with a smirk before climbing out of the car, avoiding most of his ranting as I went to fetch the bags from the trunk.
By the time we made it to the front door, the snow was starting to fall, fat and lazy, around us.
It wasn’t long, though, before it was practically a white-out.
And, for some reason I didn’t exactly understand, it almost seemed, I don’t know… eerie. Like something was coming. I just didn’t know what.
CHAPTER TWO
Mere
“Go make me a sandwich, bitch,” I heard a male voice say as I pushed the door open to my apartment, finding my roommate—and cousin—sitting in front of the massive TV in the living room, her controller in her hand.
“Why don’t you eat my dick, you walking shitstain?” she shot back to a chorus of Ooohs from the men she was playing some shooting game with.
“Jesus, Vega,” I hissed, pushing the door closed and shaking my head at her.
“Sorry,” she said, grimacing. “My headset is charging in my room, and my legs are numb and, even if they weren’t, I’m too lazy to go get them,” she told me before her game character blasted the hell out of several enemies. “Alright. I’m off,” she said, then ended the game to turn to look at me.