Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 70004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
I stopped in the middle of the yard and said, “What do you want? I’m at work.”
Obviously, that was the wrong thing to say because he stepped toward me threateningly, his finger out and pointed at my face.
My father’s angry eyes sliced to me. “You’re at work? Maybe if you’d answered any of my phone calls, I wouldn’t have to come to this particular hellhole.”
I crossed my arms over my chest in a protective manner. Mainly, I did this to hide the shaking that came with his quick run up on me. Paired with his closeness, I definitely felt intimidated.
Which was what he wanted.
“Get your finger out of my face. I’m not four. I’m a grown adult,” I ordered, hoping my voice sounded strong.
“You’re doing something that you can’t come back from, Mable Louise,” he growled, not removing his finger.
In fact, not only did he not remove his finger, but he crowded me even closer, forcing me to take a large step back to keep him from touching me with that finger.
He backed me up until I hit a wall.
A wall that wasn’t a wall at all.
“If you don’t take a step back, I’ll make you,” Romeo’s angry, chilling voice said from behind me.
I felt the rumble of those words through the three layers of jackets I was wearing, too.
“And just who are you to tell me what I can and can’t do with my daughter?” my dad sneered, spittle gathering at the corners of his mouth.
“I think she ceased being your daughter around the age of nine? Or was it ten, baby?” Romeo asked. “I can’t remember when your so-called ‘father’ married Whitney.”
“Eight.” I swallowed.
“Eight.” Romeo nodded, the friction of our jackets rubbing together was the only thing you could hear now. The entire crew had ceased what they were doing and started watching. “I think that’s about right. Tell me, why are you here today?”
My dad’s jaw worked. “I’m here today because she’s trying to kick me out of my house!”
“Your house?” Romeo asked, humor lacing his tone. “Are we sure it’s your house?”
“We’re sure,” Dad snarled.
“Because that’s not what I hear,” Romeo said. “If it was actually your house, she wouldn’t have been able to serve a formal eviction notice, would she? Seems like your late wife knew you were a bit of a tool, and put all the money Mable would ever need into a trust fund that you couldn’t touch. And she made sure to leave her the house. A house, from what I gather, she loved. Tell me, is that why your now-wife started taking loans out in the kids’ names? Did you know that your wife was using your children’s Social Security numbers and taking loans out in their names? Did you know that your wife actually ruined Birdee’s credit? Ever wondered why Birdee and Mable didn’t get along? Did you ever think that maybe, just maybe, there was a reason behind it? Or did you just live off your dead wife’s inheritance, plant your head in the sand, and not question a damn thing?”
Romeo’s words had exhilaration surging through my body.
These were all questions I’d been dying to ask, but probably never would’ve gotten the nerve up to ask.
Birdee might’ve. But definitely not me.
I was the most non-confrontational person in existence. I didn’t even tell restaurants that they added mustard to my burgers when I couldn’t stand it, and definitely wouldn’t have uttered the word mustard in a thousand years.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Dad disagreed. “Whitney is a great mom to those two girls. She’s spent the last fucking decade and a half trying to get them to like each other. Their hate for each other is all on them. Not my wife. And she most certainly wouldn’t have taken out any loans or ruined their credit.”
“Why don’t you maybe go snoop around in her office,” Romeo suggested. “You have about twenty-six more days until you’re forced to be out of there. Use the time wisely.”
“I’m not going anywhere. Neither one of us are. I have a business that I run out of that house.”
“Well, either you can leave nicely, or the cops can make you leave,” Romeo said. “Either way, you’re no longer allowed to be on this site. This is Bunyan Property.”
“You don’t have the authority to keep me away from here,” Dad tried.
“No, but I do,” Paul Junior said as he came ambling up. I’d seen him in the yard earlier working, but I hadn’t expected him to intervene with my father. Though, maybe I should’ve expected him to seeing as my dad was interrupting our workday. And lunch wasn’t for another fifteen minutes. “You’re officially being asked to leave the property. Don’t make me call the sheriff’s department. They’re too busy to come out here for something so petty.”