Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 60711 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60711 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Not even a little.
Andie bit her lip, her mind racing.
Her mother had never talked about her younger sister. Never mentioned Joyce at all, not once in Andie’s entire life. But small towns had long memories and loose lips, and Andie had heard the gossip.
Joyce had run away from home at seventeen. Said Dolores was too strict, too religious, too suffocating. Said she would never help her sister with anything.
Not even if it killed her.
The words echoed in Andie’s mind as the bus rumbled on.
What if...
What if she went to Joyce?
Because another thing she learned from the local gossips was how rich her aunt was now. Richer than anyone this town had seen. And definitely rich enough to give—not lend even, but give—Andie $55,000...for the right reason.
She racked her brain for anything and everything else she heard that pertained to her Aunt Joyce...like the fact that she could be really vindictive.
Right, right, she had heard the others confirm this multiple times.
With one of them even going as far as describing her aunt as perversely vengeful because of how Joyce had flirted with Dolores’ first boyfriend and made him cheat on her, and all because she was pissed that her older sister refused to help her obtain a fake ID.
Someone that vindictive...would indeed rather die than help Dolores with her problem. But what if it was the other way around?
What if Andie played the rebel like her?
What if...what if she claimed to need the money for something Dolores would absolutely loathe, and thus something Joyce would surely find delightful?
It was crazy.
Far-fetched.
Desperate.
But since desperate was exactly what she was...
MEMORIES OF THE EVENTS that led to this pivotal moment flashed in her mind as she watched Paul’s expression turn stoic at her silence. She wished she could speak, but what was there to say? And did she even have a right to say anything, considering that she had lied, not just to Paul but to Joyce as well?
The mere thought of Paul walking away from her for good had her entire body shaking. But all she did was clench her fists against her sides, telling herself that this was what she deserved.
And so she forced herself to wait.
For Paul to call her a liar.
Ask for a divorce.
Maybe even lose his temper, to the point that he’d be tempted to lift a hand against her.
And if he did...
She wouldn’t hold it against him.
Because this...
This was her fault.
Her fault for not believing in Dolores when her mother told her that God would help them.
Her fault for thinking that there was a “right” reason to lie and deceive people, and that asking for money for false reasons wasn’t stealing.
All this was her fault.
And so...
Why was he still there?
Was he waiting for something?
Could it be that he wanted his pound of flesh, and that included her begging for his forgiveness?
Her throat tightened as she slowly raised her head. She steeled herself for anything and everything...but when her gaze finally lifted to his—
I don’t understand.
Paul stood before her, jaw clenched tightly, and rigid tension outlining his powerful figure.
She had been prepared to see hatred in his eyes.
But what she saw instead had her heart shattering into pieces—
God, I’m scared.
Help me.
Please.
Because she was scared. Terrified even. So, so terrified that in her pain and desperation, she had finally lost her mind and was now seeing things that wasn’t there at all.
Please, please, please—
Joyce decided she had waited long enough and let out a little cry of dismay. “I simply can’t believe this.” It was time to stab a knife straight into her niece’s heart, and have her bleed to death, right here and now. “Tell me it’s not true, Andie. Tell me you were completely honest—”
“Will you excuse us for a moment?”
Joyce had been ready to have her words cut off. But what she had not imagined was that the person doing the interrupting would be Paul himself.
She opened her mouth to protest—
“I would like to speak to my wife in private.”
—but felt her courage wilt at the way Paul’s gaze turned steely as he stared at her.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Rage and frustration warred inside of Joyce, but because she did know Paul well enough to know that he would only find a way to make her pay if she refused—
Joyce managed a smile, not wanting to lose face in front of a crowd like this. “Of course.” Afterward, she forced herself to turn and walk away, smile in place even as she cursed her niece to perdition.
Andie didn’t know what to feel, much less think, as she watched Paul dismiss her aunt with a few choice words. She might have only been with Joyce for a couple of days, but she had seen enough to know that her aunt normally wouldn’t take that lying down. It just showed how much influence Paul wielded over other people—