Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 69582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Wendy nodded. “Are you sure you have to go?”
I wished I didn’t.
I’d tried to get out of it. I mean, I had a child that still required a hell of a lot of work, whether she was doing better or not. I shouldn’t have to be relying on my parents.
Yet, the woman that I’d called about the federal jury duty hadn’t cared. She’d pretty much pointed out that as long as I wasn’t in imminent danger of giving birth or had a child under one that was still exclusively breastfed, they generally didn’t care about my excuse.
Being the type of person that I was—amenable and straight-laced—I’d decided that it was better not to argue.
“You should’ve just pretended that you never got it,” my dad, who was very anti-government, said. “They can’t prove that you got it. Not without sending it certified mail. And even then, you have to sign for it. You could just not sign for it.”
I sighed. “It’ll be okay. You act like you don’t adore watching Wendy.”
Dad’s eyes looked at my girl. “I mean, she kind of stinks now that she’s started PE again.”
“Grandpa!” Wendy cried out in outrage. “That’s not nice!”
Dad’s eyes twinkled.
Mine did, too.
Mostly because we were both freakin’ ecstatic that she was even able to participate in physical education.
“I’m heading out.” I dropped a kiss onto Wendy’s head, which was, sadly, only a foot under my five-foot-one-inch height.
She was big for her age.
She got that from her father, who’d been really tall. About six-foot-seven.
The size difference between her father and me had been the butt of many jokes, but we’d adored each other.
We’d been best friends since childhood. We were raised together. Went to college together. And we’d lived in the same town since we’d become best friends.
We weren’t in love with each other, though.
After one night of drunken sex, we’d found out that we were expecting.
Mackey and I both had been pretty upbeat about it, and the pregnancy had gone great.
That is until Mackey’s best friend, Errol, had found out that I’d slept with Mackey.
He’d thrown a fucking fit because he’d thought that he was going to be the one to win me. And when his best friend had stolen what he thought was his, he’d beat the absolute shit out of him.
Mackey hadn’t expected it. Hadn’t fought back. Not at first, anyway.
Errol had taken him so much by surprise that he’d dealt a blow to Mackey’s head that had caused a traumatic brain injury that had permanently disabled him.
Mackey never got to meet his baby like he should have.
Even worse, he would spend the rest of his life only able to do the most basic of things.
Wendy knew who her dad was.
Knew that her daddy had an accident before she was born.
However, Mackey would never be anything more than just a person she knew.
Mackey’s parents, upon hearing about the attack, had decided to move him to Nepal where they now lived. It was very, very rare that we would get to see him now. And, even worse, he didn’t have the same cognitive ability to understand. He was like a child and could only do the most basic activities of daily living.
He knew who I was, could respond with a smile. But he couldn’t talk well. Couldn’t walk much at all. Had to have help eating, showering, and taking care of his every basic need.
I missed the hell out of my friend.
And I hated Errol fucking Fuller with the power of a thousand suns.
Even worse, he never saw jail time for what he’d done.
The judge had ruled it an accident.
But I knew better.
Errol was a jealous asshole who thought he could have something I wasn’t willing to give.
And his stupid fucking club had protected him.
“Love you, Mother.”
I tugged lightly on Wendy’s braid and headed out, waving to my mom in the falcon cage as I left.
She waved back, her new favorite love Tots on her gloved arm, and went back to what she was doing.
I slid into my SUV, a new Ford Expedition that had ‘excellent snow and ice capabilities’ according to the salesman.
The drive to Bozeman from Bear Pass was pleasant.
And pretty.
So. Dang. Pretty.
I’d never visited Montana before, though I’d always wanted to.
Alabama had been my home since I was a child, and I’d never thought that I would leave it.
I was wrong, though.
I realized that I’d do just about anything to protect my daughter.
That included moving thousands of miles away to a mountain town that made me slightly nauseous nearly all of the time.
I’d do anything for my girl. Murder. Nausea. Snot.
Nothing was off the table when it came to her.
The drive to Bozeman took about two hours, mostly because I had to drive over several mountain passes to get there.
When I arrived at the courthouse, I had to pay to park—fuckin’ awesome—and headed inside.