Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 141634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 708(@200wpm)___ 567(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 708(@200wpm)___ 567(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
Chapter 1
CLAUDIA
After Thanksgiving…
I stare at the boxes along the basement wall that are filled with Christmas decorations. I’ve been sitting here for almost an hour now trying to make myself get up and do it. Every year Grams and I would put them out together, but this is the first time I’ve faced them since she died and even though I told myself I would keep the tradition I can’t. I made it halfway down the stairs before I parked my ass on the steps and now I’m unable to go any further.
I wipe away a tear and take comfort in knowing she’s where she wanted to be—she and Grandpa are together again. I wish I’d known him because the way she talked about their love sounded too good to be true. Yet I could see it in her eyes when she talked about him that they were soulmates. Even after he died, she never loved anyone else and said that she would always belong to him.
I stand up, knowing I’m not going to be able to do it today. Maybe tomorrow I’ll find the will to bring the boxes upstairs. Thanksgiving was hard enough and I don't want to start thinking about anything beyond that.
I shut the basement door and I glance over to the cell phone lying on the small kitchen table. I wish I could throw the thing away. I hate when it goes off because I feel a mixture of anxiety and excitement. I don’t know if it’s going be my brother wanting something from me or the man who’s taken over every other part of my mind.
When my brother gave me the old cell phone, I never imagined it would see this much action. I pick it up and see I have an inbox full of text messages and missed calls from Brian Carter. Why does he keep trying to talk to me? I did what I was supposed to and I’m done until my brother asks me to do something else. I don’t engage with people my brother works with, no matter how tempting this one is.
I clear out all the messages and turn it on silent before I lay it back down. By now Brian might have figured out I wasn't the one that was supposed to meet him with the building plans. Why my brother didn’t do it himself, I don’t know. I don’t ask because the less I know the better. He always has me running the weirdest of errands, but I just agree. The job seemed simple enough, but I wasn’t expecting Brian Carter to spark something inside me. It pissed me off and I let him know it by being cold and dismissive to him. I wanted him away from me so that maybe the feelings he invoked in me would leave with him. So far that hasn’t worked out.
I’m sick of running his errands, but what choice do I have? My brother has done a good job of making sure that I’ve got nowhere else to go and no other choice.
I look around Grams’ old house and think about all the memories stored here. The house isn’t in the best neighborhood, but I’ve been given protection because of my brother. Everyone around here is afraid of the man he works for. Mark is the muscle, but he’d probably call himself his right-hand man.
I want out, but Mark won’t let me and there’s no way I could sell this place. It’s in both our names and he wouldn’t agree to it. He likes having control over me, and it doesn’t take much for him to get me to do what he wants. I can see through his charm, no matter how hard he tries. There’s danger all around him and I’m no longer blind to it.
Grams died thinking he was an angel and thought I’d be okay because Mark would take care of me. I’m thankful she left this earth in peace not knowing who he really was. It took me growing up to see because of the fifteen-year age gap between us. Now that Grams is gone, he doesn’t try and hide it. It’s only when I get the sweet side of him do I think maybe he actually loves me in his own messed-up way.
Mark grew up with our parents who were drug addicts, living in the worst places until my mom handed him over to Grams the same day I was born. I don’t know my mother, but I’m thankful to her for at least giving me some sort of life she never gave Mark. I didn’t have to go through what he did and I’m sure I only know a little of what his life was like before. Sometimes I wonder if his anger towards me is because I didn’t have to go through what he did. He’s like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, only Mr. Hyde is around more and more since Grams passed, and I was actually thankful when he didn’t show up for Thanksgiving.