Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 114223 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114223 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
His room was small, square, and clean. A single bed—too short and too narrow for his out-of-this-world frame, was pushed against one of the walls. There was a Morrissey poster above his pillow, a Cure poster right next to his old-school computer monitor and cheap desk, and the guitar stand I assumed belonged to his late Tania, naked and empty of his favorite thing in the world. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking up at me.
“Happy now?”
My heart shriveled in pain, especially as the next words left my mouth. “Don’t look out the window.”
He walked over to the small window, ignoring my plea and scanning the neighborhood through dead eyes. “Oh, fuck.”
I couldn’t summarize the situation better. “I don’t know how they found out.”
He turned to me. “I do. My parents are going to get a nice check from this little stunt.”
Everything that happened from that point forward was so quick, so fast, I could hardly catch my breath. Alex stormed down the stairs two at a time, while I followed, calling after him to stop and think and don’t react. Which was very rich, considering I’d never been so deeply betrayed by my own family members, even when Craig was being unbearable.
“You cunt,” Alex growled, invading the small, crowded kitchen and pinning his father to one of the walls, his hand grabbing his dad’s neck firmly. The kids shrieked and, without thinking about it clearly, I gathered their hands and ushered them out of the kitchen.
“Here. Play with this.” I dumped the entire contents of my purse on the coffee table. My money, cell phone, snacks, everything, splayed before them, and I watched them tearing out the five and ten quid notes from my wallet, shouting through the roof. I hurried back to the kitchen, where Alex stood over his dad, hissing at him like he was about to kill him.
“You piece of shit! You sold me out! Again!”
“That was all on your mother, son. She wants new tits for Christmas. Kind of like Fallon. Mummy issues, much?” His father cackled, as if the entire thing was a joke Alex should be taking more lightly.
Louisa tried to break them apart without really putting much effort into it, careful not to get her pink nails broken in the process. “Calm down now. Just give them what they want and they’ll go away, Alex. A few kisses to the camera with the missus. Just like in Notting Hill.”
“Where did you get the idea that my life is a fucking rom-com? Who the fuck let you take me home when you gave birth to my sorry arse? Bloody hell.” Alex released his dad from his grip, running his big palms through his hair.
“Don’t talk to your mother like that,” Jim said.
“You talk to her a lot worse,” Alex deadpanned.
“Well, I’m her husband. I’m allowed to.”
Alex paused, stared at him like he was the very cause for the Ebola phenomenon, and sneered. “You’re a pig.”
“And you’re no different. Only thing is, you’re a pig with money, so you get better pussy, really.”
Alex’s fist connected with Jim’s nose immediately, and I jumped in to pull him away. I grabbed onto his arm just as he was swinging for a second punch, and he must’ve had a hell of a lot of momentum, because his elbow collided with my eye. The sharp pain made me stumble back, and I fell flat on my butt once my back hit the wall. My hands immediately went to my left eye, and I winced. Damn, that hurt. I could feel my tears running freely now—not from emotion, but from the sting. Everything around me blurred, but I still caught Alex squatting by my side, his hand on my shoulder.
“Shit. Fuck. Are you all right?”
“Hmm.” I nodded, even though I really didn’t know that for sure. “I’m good.”
“Let me have a look.”
“Oh, it’s okay.”
“It’s not, Indie.” He peeled my fingers off my eye, his own eyes flaring when he caught a glimpse of me. Not magazine material, I gathered from the look on his face.
“Black eye,” he muttered.
“Really? Already?” I asked, feeling more deflated than angry. My eye felt numb now. But it still stung. Like my eyelashes had curled backward into my eyeball.
“I’ll get her some ice,” Louisa said.
“Sorry, luv,” Jim offered.
“I fucking hate both of you,” Alex seethed, grabbing a bag of frozen French fries his mother handed him and pressing it against my eye. “It’s gonna hurt like a bitch, but you need this right now.”
Same could be said about you.
I nodded, feeling the bite against my skin intensify with every second the cold bag was on my heated flesh. Alex took out his phone and demanded Siri call Blake.
“I need a cab back to the hotel from my parents’ house. Now.”
There was a pause before he said, “A hundred? You’re fucking joking.”