Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 68735 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68735 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
At least if my cousin had gotten it, he would’ve had a way to keep the place.
Me, on the other hand?
I barely had enough money to rub two pennies together.
I was Broke, with a capital B.
My mom’s medical bills were outrageous, and they were drowning us.
To keep her in assisted living each month was five thousand dollars.
Dad and I combined didn’t make that.
As a journeyman plumber, I made good money.
But good money didn’t matter when you had millions of dollars in medical bills to pay and a five-thousand-dollar rent check to caregivers for your asshole of a mother.
“I…”
“Plus,” Creole continued as if I hadn’t been digesting her previous words still. “Laney will never find someone that she loves like she loves you. Unless you count me, and I can’t give her the family that she wants.”
I couldn’t either.
“I can’t either,” I echoed my own thoughts.
“You may not, no,” she agreed. “But if she winds up pregnant, they’ll automatically assume it was you. She winds up pregnant when she’s with me, they’ll be wondering what kind of filth infected their bloodline and go digging.”
I rolled my eyes.
Laney’s parents were the problem here.
They were controlling, rich, and entitled.
They couldn’t stand anyone that they deemed “beneath” them.
They hated me with a passion and hated Creole even more.
Creole didn’t beat around the bush anymore. She hadn’t in seven years when she’d started acting like a completely different person.
She didn’t act like she was who she wasn’t, and I kind of liked that about her.
Other than her hotness, that might be the only thing that I liked about her.
Her ability to stand up for herself and others was everything, especially when it came to Laney’s parents, Luciano and Paula Combs, it was legendary.
Not even Laney and I could do it.
Not that I was a pushover or anything.
To be truthful, if I knew that it wouldn’t hurt Laney, I’d fuck the motherfuckers up.
However, I couldn’t stand to watch Laney get hurt, so I let her handle her parents how she saw fit.
“Mama,” a little boy came barreling out of the bedroom where Creole had previously been waiting. “Can you tie this?”
My heart panged at the little boy’s bald head.
Leukemia.
He’d been suffering from it for a little over six months.
The prognosis was good, but he was still being tortured with chemo and radiation.
Poor guy.
“Yeah, baby.” Creole bent down, and Damon, her son, pressed his tiny little hand against her shoulder.
Creole didn’t flinch like she did with everyone else.
Then again, when you had a kid at seventeen like Creole did, it was doubtful that you would be able to get away with not touching your own kid.
I watched the entire interaction and grinned when Damon wobbled on his one foot.
I reached out to offer my hand, and Damon’s small hand closed over my fist.
“Thanks.” He smiled. “That would’ve hurt.”
Damon bruised easily with the chemo, according to Creole.
I’d bet he would hurt if he fell. The kid had no meat on his bones.
Damon let go of my hand and ran off, knocking his mother to her ass in the process. I stayed where I was, opening my palm to offer help to get Creole to her feet.
Creole looked at my hand that I was still holding out for her for a long second before offering me a tight smile and taking my hand.
I inwardly watched her flinch before she let me go with a muttered thanks.
“I have to go,” she said to Laney. “My mom and dad should be here really soon.”
“Safe travels, friend.” She smiled. “Love you.”
“Love you, too.” Creole took off without saying another word, the door closing behind her.
“What’s going on?” I asked as I watched Creole disappear through the living room window of Laney’s apartment.
“Creole got a new job with the airlines,” she explained. “She started it last week. It makes pretty good money, but also, it offers great benefits and healthcare to boot. Which will retroactively go into effect.”
She jerked her head in Damon’s direction.
Ahh, made sense.
“Why doesn’t her mom have him if she’s busy?” I asked.
I watched Laney’s face fall. “Joy has colon cancer.”
I closed my eyes.
Fuck.
Creole couldn’t catch a break, could she?
“Fuck,” I said again.
“That’s another reason I want to get married.” Laney looked into her bedroom where we could see Damon playing on the floor. “She has medical bills, too. I’ll pay them both off.”
And that was the final nail in the coffin.
“Are you sure about this, Laney?” I asked.
She smiled. “More than.”
“Then we’ll go to the courthouse Monday.”
“Anything for you, Detroit,” she teased.
My brows rose. “Detroit?”
“Yeah.” She grinned. “Your shirt. It has Detroit on it. I figured I’d coin you with your new motorcycle club name.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
And it would continue to be a no.
The only reason I had the Detroit Lions shirt on was because I knew that seeing it on my body physically made my mother angry.