Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
“Someone like you?” She arches a brow. “I happen to agree, but you fucked things up straight out of the gate. The only way out of a fuck up this big is sustained, persistent groveling. You have to prove you’re seriously sorry and would never do anything like that again. Believe me, I know.”
I frown. “How? No offense, little sister, but you haven’t dated anyone in years.”
She crosses her arms. “Sure, I have. I just keep things quiet. I get enough shit from Mom already. If she knew I was crushing on a guy sixteen years older than I am with a kid and a history of trouble with the law, she’d ship me off to a convent against my will.”
My brows shoot up. “Woah. Yeah, she would. What kind of trouble with the law?”
She waves a hand. “Not bad trouble, just…trouble. And it was a long time ago, when he was young. He’s different now.”
I shoot her a dubious look.
“Seriously, he is,” she insists. “He’s an amazing father and a total badass in his new career. His business is about to blow up, he only goes out on Saturday nights, when his mom can babysit, and he loves working out, rock climbing, and tattoos as much as I do. He’s a total catch.” She sighs. “His only flaw is that he thinks I’m a child, when I am clearly a badass woman in control of my own destiny, who is perfectly capable of making mature decisions about who I want to date.”
My eyes narrow as I try to connect the dots. But I don’t know many single dads. I don’t run in those circles. I spend most of my time with other lawyers or hanging out with my family.
I’m about to ask her for a name, figuring a background check from a concerned older brother could be a good thing to have, when my phone buzzes on the counter. Before I can reach for it, it buzzes again and again, as texts pop through one after another.
Frowning, I swipe up, my stomach cramping as I read the string of messages from my ex—
Camping trip last October, huh? Interesting. Because according to your social media timeline, you didn’t go camping this past October.
But you did the OCTOBER BEFORE.
When you and I were still together, Wesley!
And you came back home the next morning acting all weird and saying you wanted to talk. But I never found out what you wanted to talk about because that was the morning, I told you I thought I was pregnant.
I guess that’s why you didn’t tell me that you CHEATED?
Is that why we didn’t have sex again for the rest of our relationship?
Is that why you broke up with me, even though I was trying so hard to be what you wanted and even told my sister that she had to find somewhere else to live if we moved in together? (Even though Daria and I have always lived together, and you have FOUR bedrooms in your house and one of them is over the garage and you literally never would have had to see Daria if you hated her that much. But whatever. I guess it’s not Daria you hated. I guess it was me.)
“Oh shit,” Binx mutters from near my elbow, making me flinch. “Oh shit, Wes. This is bad. This is really, really bad.”
No sooner are the words out of her mouth than a final text appears—But that’s fine. I hate you, too, now. Daria was right. You’re an asshole and a liar and you never loved me the way I deserve to be loved. I should have let her handle you a long time ago. Guess now…I will.
“Run,” Binx says, squeezing my arm. “You have to run. Now.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I mutter, my thoughts racing.
“I’m not,” she says, squeezing harder. “She’s going to kill you. And Tessa. And maybe me, just for being related to you and friends with Tessa.”
“I’m not going to run from a woman half my size,” I say. “I’ll talk to Darcy again tomorrow. Once she’s had time to cool down—”
“What part of ‘let my sister handle you’ are you missing here?” Binx screeches. “You have to get out of Dodge, bro. At least for a little while. Long enough for Daria to realize you aren’t worth going to prison over.”
“I think she’s right,” Tessa says from the doorway on the other side of the kitchen, making both Binx and I jump out of our skin, proving emotions are running ridiculously high. “You didn’t see her, Wes. I’ve read about people having ‘murder in their eyes’ before, but I’ve never seen it myself until tonight. Daria is legitimately unhinged. And yes, we could call the police for help, but the police aren’t going to take action until she does something sufficiently threatening to warrant their intervention. And by then—”