Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27761 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27761 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
CHAPTER 4
ASTOR
My eyes fly open at the sound of my father's voice. Realization overtakes me that I was about to let Cane kiss me. What the hell is wrong with me? This is exactly why I avoid him at all costs. I push at Cane’s chest but get nowhere.
“Nothing, Dad. I’ll be right in,” I call back, hoping the darkness is making it hard for him to see. That hope dies when light floods the back yard. Crap.
“Cane Justice!” my dad bellows across the yard. If he wasn’t stuck in the wheelchair, I’m sure he would have already been over here dealing with Cane himself. “You best get off my land, boy. This is Texas. Next time I won’t give you a warning.”
“Your dad wants to put me out of my misery. I think he might be coming around.”
“Cane,” I hiss. “Don’t joke about that kind of crap.” I push on his chest again. Still he doesn’t let me go.
“Not a joke.”
“Don’t.” I shake my head, really not liking the dark jokes coming from him.
Cane was always the one out of all the Justice men that had the easy smiles and quick jokes. Not so much anymore. I might not hang around Cane like I did when I was younger, but he still always manages to be around me in one way or another. The lightness he used to have is slowly fading away. I shouldn’t care, but it bothers me for some stupid reason.
“Astor! Get in here.” Cane’s hands on me tighten at my dad’s words. I know he’s pissed over my father speaking to me that way. Even after all these years, I can still read Cane.
“Please don’t,” I whisper, not wanting to make this situation worse than it already is between my father and him.
“For you, I’ll let it go.” He leans down, and I think he’s going to go ahead and steal that kiss, but he stops a breath away from my lips. “For now.” He releases his hold on me, taking a step back. “See you around, love.” He turns, strolling off. I dart back toward the house, not allowing myself to watch him walk away from me even if I’m the one telling him to go. The sight of it is a painful reminder of that day in the field all those years ago.
“What do you want for dinner?” I ask, passing by my father as I slip through the back door.
“Why was he here?” he grumbles.
“Said the Russells’ oak trees have wilt and wanted to check ours to make sure none of them are suffering from the same.”
“Why the hell would he even care? Boy needs to mind his own business.”
“He knows I love our oaks. I sit in the swing a lot of nights.” I stare over at my father, who is still glaring out the back window.
Resentment is starting to grow inside of me. I don’t know how to deal with it, and I hate it. My father is all I have left in my life, but he’s becoming an angry old man. He gets more and more bitter with each day that passes. He’s nothing like the dad I once knew. He was never perfect, but he sure as hell wasn’t anything close to this. He changed once my mom was gone.
“Dinner?” I ask again.
“Not hungry.”
“Fine.” I shut the refrigerator door, not in the mood to deal with him being difficult tonight.
“Fine?” He spins around in his chair. “You’re not going to tell me I need to eat something?”
Normally I would push him to eat something. I’d cook something, and he’d pick at it, barely eating it. Then a few hours later I’d catch him with a giant bowl of ice cream.
“You’re a grown man. If you want to eat, you’ll eat. I’m going to take a shower.”
I don’t have it in me today. It’s been a long day, and nothing is going as it should. No matter how hard I work and push, all I do is tread water. It’s exhausting living every day worried that I’ll lose it all. Something has to change, or I’m going to end up like my father. Bitter and snapping at everyone. I don’t want to live my life like that.
I head to my room and quickly get undressed. Every inch of me aches from working the land today. I’m not only physically exhausted but mentally as well. The warm water feels good on my skin. I moan, letting my eyes fall closed. My mind drifts back to Cane holding me for those brief moments. How good and right it felt.
No matter how much time passes, I still want him. I don’t even try to deny it to myself. I’m strong in so many ways except when it comes to him. Believe me, I’ve tried to shake him, but since I was a little girl, I’ve thought Cane was my soul mate. I remember my mom telling me Dad was hers.