Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 89878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
The sobs come hard and fast, ripping through my chest and leaving me gasping for air. I cry for him, the man I fell in love with—the one I betrayed. I cry for the family I ruined. It’s not only about them, though. It’s everything. The loss of my father. My mother not protecting me. The shitty hand I’ve been dealt. If my dad hadn’t died, would things have been different? Would I be different?
Tears blur my vision as guilt and shame consume me. I feel lost, confused, and utterly broken. And beneath it all, there’s a deep, gnawing hatred—for myself. For the chaos I’ve caused. For being so damaged, I sabotage anything good in my life. The sobs keep coming, and I let them.
A guttural scream tears up my throat, hoping to release all the demons caged inside my dark soul. But I know better. They’re not leaving. They’re a part of me, burrowed deep. They live inside me. Time passes, but the tears don’t stop. They continue to flow relentlessly down my face. I reach for my phone more times than I can count to call Jackson, beg for him to take me back, to forgive me. Then I consider Noah. Right now, I need someone. Anyone.
The guilt churns my stomach, and I rush to the bathroom, heaving into the toilet, my body convulsing. I’m desperate, grasping for something to hold onto. Finally, I dial my mom, the only person left I can think to turn to. But the call never goes through. My phone dies in my hand, and only then do I realize—I didn’t grab my charger.
Willing myself to calm down, I crawl into bed, tug my knees to my chest, and close my eyes, praying the world takes me, and I never wake up.
Chapter twenty-five
Jackson
Numbness. It seeps in, drowning the anger. All-consuming rage followed by nothing. I let her walk out after tearing her down, treating her like nothing more than an object. My chest tightens. The sensation that’s been there since the moment I found her in my room is suffocating now, a weight I can’t shake. But it’s done. Over. If there’s one thing I can’t and won’t tolerate, it’s betrayal.
She couldn’t trust me enough to come to me, and that cuts the deepest. Instead, she chose to put everything I’ve built, everything I’ve sacrificed for, on the line: my family, fractured as it is, and my career, which I’ve bled for. All because she didn’t want to hurt Noah.
But she didn’t think. Didn’t see. If that USB got into the wrong hands, it wouldn’t just be me or my son destroyed—it would destroy everything. Yet, she made that choice.
I slam my mug down and hiss as coffee spills over, burning my hand.
“Morning.” I blink and look up at Noah as he walks into the kitchen. “You see Georgia this morning?”
Georgia. Like the Peach.
“No.”
“Did you see her when you came home? She was here. I don’t think she slept here, though. Unless she fell asleep in the media room.”
I grip my mug to the brink of shattering it. “I haven’t seen her. Listen, I want to talk about yesterday.”
He shrugs me off. “Nothing to talk about.”
“There is. I was out of line. You caught me in a vulnerable state. I was upset about something and took it out on you.”
Noah pauses from grabbing the coffee pot and stares at me. “What did you just say?”
“You can wipe that smirk off your face. Yes, this is me apologizing. You walked in after something dire had happened, and my emotions got the best of me. I reacted poorly, taking it out on you. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” He freezes, eyes wide and jaw slack. He should be shocked. I’ve never been one to take the blame or apologize. “Now, tell me, do you plan to show up to work today or continue this show of trying to displease me any chance you get?”
He fills his mug. “Showing up. I even plan to work the whole day.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
We stare at one another in a moment of truce before I break the connection and stand. “Hurry up. You’re gonna be late.”
“Yeah, yeah. But I’m serious. I’m kinda worried about Georgia. I’ve called and texted her, but nothing.”
A ping of guilt stabs at me, but I push it away. “Like I said. She’s a big girl. Maybe she got sick of this and went home.”
“No. There’s no way she’d do that. She’d head back to school before going there.”
“Why’s that?” I ask, my interest piqued. I shouldn’t care, though. She’s not my concern anymore.
“Her stepdad is a piece of shit. That fucker hit her. Hits her mom, too.”
My fists clench at my sides. “What?”
“Yeah. Sad. Her dad died when she was young, and her mom remarried. Guess the guy is a total loser.” He pulls out his phone and taps her contact before putting it up to his ear. I silently pray she answers so I know she’s okay and not at the hands of a motherfucker. “Straight to voicemail. Her phone has to be off.”