Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 101872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Renard scoffed. “We’ll see about that.”
“Take the win tonight, buddy,” she warned. “But don’t fucking push it.”
Turns out she was a regular bleeding heart.
“Sure, Opal?” Devon asked.
Opal smiled at him. Devon was a good guy. If she was a different person, she might have been attracted to him because he was hot.
However, she knew she’d eat him up and spit him out. Not because he wasn’t strong or dominant.
But he wasn’t the sort of strong Dom she needed. And he hadn’t been through hell in his life. He’d likely never understand her.
Sometimes she wondered if anyone could.
If they could live with her demons and still see something good in her. Lord knew when she looked in the mirror, she didn’t see anyone worthy of love.
“I’m sure, bud,” she told him with a wink. “You don’t need to worry about me. I can take care of myself.”
“All right. Text me when you get home safe, though.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she replied.
Devon rolled his eyes, the tension in his body easing.
“Don’t call him that,” Renard ordered as she walked behind him toward the door.
“I can call him what I like,” she snapped back.
Easy.
Just let him take you home. It’s no skin off your nose.
Remember, you don’t need a man to love you to feel worthwhile.
Or, at least, that’s what Doctor Susie told her. Doctor Susie had a whole lot of books on how to build your self-confidence. On trauma and recovery. Opal couldn’t afford an actual therapist, but she had managed to get some of Doctor Susie’s books from the library.
She wanted to try and piece her life back together. To find who she was when she wasn’t being beaten down.
Renard paused and turned.
She braced herself for his anger. That’s what men did when they didn’t get their way, right?
They got angry and blamed other people for their faults, their failings.
Not all men.
You can’t hate all men.
Doctor Susie said that too. The woman was really a genius. Opal wished she had a tenth of her smarts. But Opal hadn’t even graduated high school.
Dumb as a box of rocks Stefan used to say.
Asshole.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Don’t walk behind me.”
She blinked. “Huh?” What was he talking about?
“You shouldn’t be walking behind me,” he said again.
“But you’re leading the way. You know where you’re parked.” Was he losing it? Had he ended up having a sip of rum?
“You still shouldn’t walk behind me. Walk alongside me.”
“Um. Okay.”
Made no difference to her where she walked. With a shrug, she moved up next to him. “Happy now?”
“Ecstatic,” he replied sarcastically.
Opal rolled her eyes. “You have more mood swings than a teenager.”
Silence.
He stepped forward and drew open the door. She stared at him a moment before walking past him. Opal still wasn’t used to the way that men treated women here. And, damn, as she walked past him, she got a hint of his scent.
Gingerbread.
He was killing her.
“Still think I might have landed in Stepfordville,” she muttered.
He snorted, sounding amused as they stepped outside. “Thought that for the first year I lived here. That there was no way everyone could be this . . . nice and genuine. Then I realized that they aren’t all nice or all good or all perfect. They’re just normal, decent people.”
“Normal?” she repeated.
“You and I, we’re not used to decent being normal. We’re used to decent being the exception not the rule. Where’s your coat?”
“Huh? Oh, I forgot it.”
“Don’t do that again.”
They approached a huge, blue truck and instead of going for the driver’s side after he unlocked it, he opened the passenger door.
“Don’t do that again?” she repeated.
“Yeah, don’t forget your coat again.”
“It’s not even that cold out.”
“You need one. Up late at night on your own, walking in the dark with no coat. Damn fool things to do.”
“I am not a fucking fool.” It took a bit to really rile her. To really and truly make her angry.
But he was getting close.
“Could have fooled me.”
“I’m sure people do, darlin’,” she drawled as she got into the truck.
He closed the door with a soft click. With a sigh, she leaned her head against the headrest.
She heard him get in, but he didn’t start the truck straight away. What was he doing?
Opening her eyes, she turned her head toward him. Even though it was night, there was plenty of lighting out in the parking lot. Devon looked after his customers. So she could see Renard tightening his hands around the steering wheel.
Tense. Relax.
Tense. Relax.
She followed the movement, growing more anxious by the moment. Was he going to turn on her? What had she done to make him angry?
Suddenly, he turned, and she flinched back into the door.
Fuck. Shit.
That damn well hurt. And what the hell was she doing? She was tough. Strong.
She didn’t take any shit from anyone.
So why did she just shy away like she thought he would hit her?