Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 120186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
The Porter name is well known. Plenty of ranching families would love to hitch their names to ours. Maybe Mom forgot to tell the Lowry family we aren’t actually doing so well. Whoops. Must have slipped her mind. My guess, she wants the marriage license signed before they dig too deep and find out we’re in trouble. Or they know we’re in trouble and probably used that to set the terms the way they want them. Mom thinks she’s some great businesswoman, but if that were the case, we wouldn’t be drowning in debt.
I can’t even tell Saint about it, which was the first thing I wanted to do. I don’t even get to run to my best friend and pour my heart out because she won’t fucking answer her phone. I give my own phone a little shake like it’s the device’s fault.
I don’t think I’ve ever hated a fucking Bishop more than I do right now. Even Kade. Especially after the humiliation he put me through the other night.
It’s Calder’s fault. He took her from her dad and from me. He got into her head somehow. I know he did; he must have. There is literally no other reason for her to be married to him. They’re opposites in every way. All she has ever done in her entire life is be good and kind. She’s always thinking about other people.
And Calder? Hell, any of the Bishops? They’re the ones who spread the kind of pain and darkness Saint would pray about. I seriously doubt Calder had a change of heart. You won’t find him in the front pew of Pastor James’s church on Sunday. I don’t think he’ll be bringing any dishes to the church potluck.
She’s too good for him. That’s it. End of story. She’s too good for the Bishops.
And what about me?
I hate that nagging voice in my head reminding me of what one of the Bishops used to mean to me before I ended things.
But I did end it before we went too far, since it was never right in the first place. The sneaking around was fun, sure, but school was about to start.
And Mom... if she’d known...
What was I supposed to do? I don’t even know why I’m guilt-tripping myself over this. It’s not like we were in a relationship. Kade doesn’t do those. He made sure I knew that, and I told him I understood, even if I secretly hoped he would change his mind. Besides, were we supposed to spend the rest of our lives sneaking around? Hell, even when I ended things, I didn’t owe him that much. It was a courtesy.
One he threw in my face.
Now I know I made the right choice, after what he did to me in my room the other night.
“What’s wrong with you?” Mom asks when I shudder before I can help it.
“Nothing. I’m fine.” With Kade’s face, and Kade’s smell, and Kade’s voice.
Oh, and the gun he dragged through my pussy until I thought I would die of fear before he ever even touched the trigger.
No, I made the right choice now that I know what he’s capable of. It’s all Roman’s fault. It’s Roman’s approval that matters so much to Kade. It’s sad, but he’ll never get it. And I think he knows.
Not that it changes anything. I used to care. I used to pity him and wish I could take away the pain. Not anymore. Not after what he did to me.
I could tell by the way he looked at me that night that he believes what everyone else will believe once they find out about this stupid engagement. That I’ve moved on and I’m happy. Thinking I’m looking forward to my new life, my happily ever after. All that shit.
Kade doesn’t know—can never know—that the first face to flash through my head when Mom told me about my engagement was his. He doesn’t want me anymore. That’s my fault. And it’s something I have to live with every time I see the hate in his eyes. But he can never know I did it for him. For me too, but also for him. Roman would kill him rather than see him with me. Mom too. It was never going to end well between us. I gave us a clean break when I left for college, and he resents me for it.
I slouch in my seat even though Mom always corrects me, folding my arms over my chest. I just want to talk to Saint. She wouldn’t call me overly dramatic. Nor would she brush me off like Mom does. I miss her so much it’s a constant ache in my chest.
Neither would Buck, probably my only other friend from around the ranch, until Mom fired him while I was away at school. She didn’t figure I needed to know about that, either, until I got home and realized after a couple of days that I hadn’t seen him.