Read Online Set Me Free by London Setterby - Free Book Online Page A

when I was nineteen, I was taking care of my sick dad.
    “The age range would depend on where you went,” Kaye said. “Andy only just finished getting his Bachelor’s part-time last year, and he’s twenty-eight, like me.”
    “Really?”
    “Really.” She beamed at me. “I think you should do it.”
    “Thanks, Kaye,” I said, and I meant it. “Maybe I will.”

    * * *
    I stirred my whiskey with a plastic coffee stirrer that folded into the edges of the ice and irritated me excessively. I’d become trapped in a conversation with the man Andy had warned me about. Andy had sworn not to leave me alone with him, yet here I was, stuck with the Fifth Horseman of the Apocalypse, Boredom.
    “So what do you do?” Boredom asked.
    “I work at the Widow’s Walk with Kaye and Andy.” I took a healthy swig of whiskey.
    “Oh, really? I’m a lawyer.” He had introduced himself to me as Attorney something-or-other, so I already knew that. I watched him warily as he edged closer to me with his hands in his pockets, jingling his keys. “I just started working at the D.A.’s office.”
    “The what?”
    “The District Attorney’s office. I’m a prosecutor.” His oddly stiff smile widened at this. “I work in the same office as Sherri Lipkowicz.”
    I stared at him blankly.
    “You’ve heard of her, haven’t you? She is very well-respected.”
    “That’s nice.”
    “Thank you, yeah. I feel honored to be able to work with her. Even though she used to do defense, I can’t hold that against her too much. She’s still a brilliant attorney.”
    I tried not to roll my eyes and downed the rest of my drink instead.
    “I’m not a small-minded person,” Boredom continued. “I do believe in the law and the system, of course. I don’t think those people should just be out, roaming the streets, when they’ve committed terrible crimes. Sherri agrees with me, I’m sure, or she would never have switched from defense to prosecution.” He leaned in even closer to me, and bent down to whisper, very loudly, in my ear: “I’m sure she had some regrets about a certain case, if you know what I mean.”
    “Sure. Sounds good.” I leaned away from him. “Anyway, I’m out of whiskey. Excuse me.”
    I dodged him, praying he wouldn’t follow me, and slipped through the crowd to our breakfast bar, which was laden down with plastic cups and half-empty bottles of liquor and mixers. I dropped ice into my cup and filled it halfway with whiskey.
    Where the hell had my housemates gone, anyway? I glanced around—Boredom had, I noticed, already cornered someone else; I could see his mouth forming the syllables in “Sherri Lipkowicz”—until, at last, I spotted Scott by the front door.
    I pushed my way towards him, hoping to ask him where Kaye and Andy were.
    “There you are.” Scott seized me by the upper arm, his fingers curling around my flesh. “It’s time.”
    “Time for what?” My skin crawled.
    “To go to the beach! The party always moves to the beach. You have to come, Miranda.” He leaned in, his hair falling onto his forehead. “Are you having a good time, Miranda? I want you to have a good time.”
    He was about the same height as Rhys, and his hand felt the same on my arm, with his fingers digging into my skin hard enough to leave a mark. I forced myself not to pull away. I didn’t want to disrupt the party, or anger my housemate.
    “Are you ready?” Scott thrust his cup of beer into the air and—thank God—released me. “To the beach!” he cried, and the people around us cheered. Gradually, the guests flowed out of the house. I trailed after them, tightening my sweater around my body and wishing I were with Kaye and Andy instead of this crowd.
    It was strange to reach East Beach, where, about a half-mile north, I’d slept in my car for three weeks. I hadn’t come back here since I’d moved in with Kaye and Andy. It was like visiting a house I used to live in: familiar and alien, all at once.
    A shock of