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Echo grows quiet, and I can’t quite wrap my head around how to feel about that. “I just wanted to know what the big deal was. Don’t freak out - you and your wife weren’t really in it. It was all about the Slayer killing for his love.”
Well, that’s not accurate. Jo is considered Alastair’s obsession, not his love, and there’s all those conspiracy theories out there about why he tried to kill both mom and daughter at the same time. He never confirmed and Jo didn’t have anything to say on the matter. Anytime I’ve heard my wife referred to ashis love, I think of the times in high school when we thought we’d be together forever, just the three of us.
I shake my head. We’re way off topic. “What does this have to do with the professor?”
“Huh? Oh, Rowths whatever has some copies of the book! She’s keeping it under wraps ‘cause of the whole copycat thing, but she offered to bring the books after she has the opportunity to speak with Alastair if people are interested. I think she told the Dean she has a couple signed copies. I guess the author died like five years ago..”
Weird.“Are you sure she’s a professor?”
“Oh yeah. I’ve seen her in the halls and she just brags about her work with inmates. I guess she has apersonal connection to damaged souls.”
I smirk at the sarcasm in her voice. “I can tell you believe all that shit, hmm? What’s the book called?”
“I think it’s Love in or Love After something. I can text Mama and she might be able to find it. I still have the book up in my room.”
“That’s okay Echo,” I tell her, rubbing the bridge of my nose. My fingers automatically smooth out my facial hair, a habit I picked up from Jo smirking and doing it herself plenty of times. “I don’t really want to read a love story inspired by Alastair.”
“Suit yourself. I’m surprised you don’t know about it already. Wouldn’t your FBI friends be able to find out about it online? I would assume they would know.”
They should be able to, but Sterling never mentioned it. My fingers itch to search for the book myself. Even if it’s out of print, wouldn’t they have some sort of knowledge about that? It feels like one of those things Sterling would want to rub in our faces to get us mad enough to talk to Alastair. “They should be able to.”
Echo hums, and for a moment it’s all but silent between us. “I’m glad you called V, even if it was only to ask questions about the school. You’re in town for a while still?”
I think of the tickets loaded up on my phone, waiting for me to pay so we can go home. I look towards Jo, and wet my lips. She encouraged me last week to reach out to my siblings, but according to Xeno, Lorenzo and Viggo are too far down the coast now in the middle of something for Papa to head back. Echo is close, and Jo wanted me to reach out to her. “We can stay a couple days longer.”
“Fab! My friends heard you two are here and wanted to get all the details, but I can ignore them for a few days. Maybe we can do something this weekend. The…” I can hear her swallow, and the next words come out strained. “Three of us?”
Surprise dances through me. She’s really trying to make an effort. “You want to see Jo?”
“Well, if she isn’t up for it we could probably invite Xeno before he heads off again. Or they could both hang with us. That’s better. I guess that makes it four?”
I chuckle to myself. The only issue I have is if Echo just wants to report back to her friends and stir up drama. I don’t know my sister well enough to know if that’s something she would do, but her comment about ignoring them sticks in my head for a few more moments. “That sounds good, Echo.”
We talk for a few more minutes about nothing in particular although my thoughts drift to that book. I’m very curious to see if I can find it. Maybe I can text Sterling about it and set him off. That should force him to respond to me at least because I’m tired of waiting around for the FBI to call on us. After this dinner with my siblings, if the FBI doesn’t have an immediate need for us, we’re out of here.
Hanging up I glance back at Jo, who’s smiling from the couch. “Well, I guess something good came out of coming to Florida. You’re speaking with her again.”
I nod and head back to her, trying to shove my worries away. I want to look into the book and this professor before I tell Jo something that’ll just worry her. Besides, Sterling might be the person to ask about it first. The FBI better know something about this damn book if it’s inspired by Alastair.
Sitting down beside Jo, she grins and climbs into my lap, muting the TV before she tosses the remote towards the table. She’s got on a bralette and tight shorts, the exact opposite of what she might wear outside. Tossing my phone to one side I rest my hands on her hips, capturing my lips with hers as she leans down. She tastes like strawberries, a remnant of the Margarita she made this morning in lieu of a coffee.
I let my mind drift. It’s easy to get lost in the feel of my wife, especially when she’s careless and free like right now. When the overwhelming weight of people isn’t all around us, Florida isn’t that bad.
Her hands travel down my sides, stroking across my bare chest and over the dark ink. She’s always had a love for my tattoos, even the ones I had before we were married. Her fingers trace mindlessly over the ink as we kiss, and I copy the patterns across her skin.
She whimpers, pulling back just long enough to speak. “Rougher.”
Smirking, I reach up and grip the back of her head. It arches her neck, showing off the slender column of her throat and making the scars stand out along her collarbone and lower to the neckline of the bralette. “I don’t know, Trauma, do you really want to play this morning?”
Jo rocks against me, giving a silent answer. This morning was hard with her nightmares returning, and coming down to sleep on the couch seemed to help her. I thought she would still be tired after last night, and it worked in my favor since I was in the middle of stressing out about Alastair. Now we can both relax, if I can get my mind to stop interrupting.
Her hands grip my shoulders as she continues to move. “I know you’re frustrated.”
I frown. “Mhmm.”
“It’s not the same, but you can take those frustrations out on me.”
I groan when she starts grinding down against me again. I get where she’s coming from, but I don’t loosen my grip on her hair either. “It’s not the same without a third.”