Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Brenna had planned to go over and clean the place after we’d packed it all up, but I had Leo text her that she didn’t need to. Cam had taken care of that, too. There wasn’t anything left to do but give the key back to the apartment manager and drop Trix’s shit at storage.
I dropped the boys at the clubhouse with orders to sweep the garage and keep their mouths shut about what we’d found. It wasn’t their place to run their mouths about Cam and Trix’s business, and I knew Cam wouldn’t want that shit known.
When I pulled up in front of our place, Brenna came out to the front porch to meet me. God, she was just as beautiful as the first time I saw her. She’d filled out since she had the kids and her body grew softer with age, but she was still hot as fuck.
“Hey, what was that text about?” she called as she bounced down the stairs. Jesus. Her tits looked amazing when she moved like that.
“Place was packed up when we got there,” I answered, pulling her in for a kiss. I gripped her hand and dragged her to the back of the van.
She was climbing inside before I’d even got the back door all the way open, and her jaw dropped as she took in the six bins stacked near the cab.
“What the hell?”
“Cam packed up all her shit,” I told her incredulously. “Even cleaned the motherfuckin’ apartment.”
She turned her face toward me and my body instantly stiffened. “Don’t fuckin’ cry. This ain’t nothin’ to cry about,” I ordered gruffly.
“Did you see the way he labeled these?” she asked, shaking her head. “‘Movies and Trix’s favorite blanket, Trix will want.’ What did the other ones say?”
“Pretty much the same shit. Labeled ’em all pretty good—what should go to storage and what shouldn’t.”
“Trix is going to—”
“You think we should rip the labels off?” I cut in.
“Fuck, no!” She looked at me like I was out of my mind. “She should see this.”
“Baby, she’s just startin’ to get over the fucker—”
“No, she isn’t,” Brenna argued softly. “She’s just getting better at hiding it.”
I let her words sink in for a minute. Was my girl really hiding it?
She’d been doing better—not great, but better. Her nightmares had come back, but she’d only had one that week. Scared the shit out of me when she’d started yelling, but her mom had calmed her down pretty quick.
Amy came and took her to yoga a couple times. Wasn’t sure if that was helping, but it did wear her out.
“Hey, did you get my stuff?” Trix asked, coming around the back of the van.
I nodded silently and gestured toward the bins. Shit.
“Wow, you sprang for the good stuff, huh?” Trix started to climb up the back bumper and I lurched forward.
“The hell are you doin’?” I snapped, grabbing her under her arms and lifting her away.
“Uh, I was going to get my boxes.” She looked at me like I had two heads.
“Stay back, I’ll get ’em,” I snapped. Like I was really going to let her pregnant ass carry shit into the house. Was she new here?
“Just set them down out here,” she called as I moved toward the bins. “I’ll go through them and see if there’s anything we can put in the storage. I don’t have much room…”
I growled at Brenna as she tried to lift one of the bins, but she ignored me. I don’t even know why I tried to boss her anymore—she never listened to a goddamn word I said.
By the time I got all of the bins unloaded, Trix was staring glassy eyed at the labels.
“This is Cam’s handwriting. He helped you?” she asked quietly, her voice trembling. “I didn’t think—”
“It was done when we got there.” I sighed and ripped the rubber band out of my hair, scratching my nails along my scalp for a second.
“But—” Trix looked at me then back at the bins. “What?”
I pulled my hair back out of my face and tied it up. Jesus. This is why I thought we should take off the damn labels. If I’d torn them off before she saw them, our daughter wouldn’t look a fucking wounded animal.
“He packed up your shit—all of it,” I finally said. “Bins were packed and labeled when we got there.”
“Why would he do this?” Trix whispered to Brenna, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I don’t understand.”
“Don’t know, baby,” Bren murmured back, wrapping her arm around Trix’s shoulders.
“This doesn’t make any sense,” Trix mumbled, shaking her head.
“Nice thing for him to do—just leave it at that,” I grumbled, leaning forward to pick up three of the bins. “Let’s get these inside.”
I watched Trix closely that night, and the night after. I was waiting for her to lose her shit. I thought for sure that she was going to break down about the little fucker again, and I hated that there was nothing I could do to help her.