Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97409 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97409 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
My stomach tightens. “Fuck. I’m sorry, man.”
“Why? You didn’t do it. She didn’t do it.” He pulls out the bill. “It’s three hundred. I gave her the friends and family discount.”
“So you gave her the tires at cost and aren’t charging her labor?” I take my card out of my wallet, sliding it over to him.
“You going to tell her you paid for this?”
I shake my head.
“What the fuck do you mean no?” His tone is tight, and he sounds irritated. “She’s going to come here, and she’s going to try to pay me for it.”
“I’ll tell her when I need to tell her, but not tonight.”
“You better hurry up. She’ll try to take on extra shifts in order to pay me back as fast as possible.”
“I’ll tell her,” I assure him, hating that I have to. “Where is her car?”
“In the back. I was going to have one of the guys drop it off.”
“I’ll take care of it. She has my truck.”
He reaches for her keys hanging on the rack and tosses them to me. “Good luck.”
“Thanks,” I mumble. “I think I’m going to need it.”
My phone buzzes with a text from Caleb.
Caleb:
Everything went down like planned. Let me know if you need anything.
I put the phone in my pocket and head to her car, adjusting the seat before heading home.
My truck is in the driveway, and I pull in beside it. The stress of the day is still weighing on me when I get inside and see she’s not in the kitchen.
“Hello,” I call, bending to untie my boots before kicking them off and tossing her keys on the table at the front door next to her purse. “Collins?”
I don’t hear the shower, but check the bedroom. She’s in the bed, her back to the headboard, and her hands on her stomach. Her face is streaked with tears. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m cramping,” she whispers, trying to control her breathing. “I’ve been cramping for the past hour or so.”
I start to panic. “We need to get you to the hospital. Maybe Dr. Louis is on call.” I expect her to get up, to panic with me, but she just shakes her head side to side.
“There’s no need. I called her.” Her voice is calm, cool, and collected despite the look of worry etched all over her pale face. She looks exhausted.
I close the distance to the bed and sit down on the side. “What did the doctor say?” Fear creeps in, and I feel like I’m going to be sick.
“She said that it’s often due to my uterus expanding, or it can be stress related, and to not worry unless I start bleeding. I’m going to call in sick tomorrow, just to be safe.”
“Stress?” I lift my hand to her face, my thumb catching her tears. “What happened today?”
“What didn’t happen today? My father . . .” She closes her eyes, trying to relax her breathing. I have to calm my own breathing down, or I fear I’ll be sounding like a bull ready to charge. “Theo, there are so many things going on in my life right now, I don’t even know what to do.”
“Well, why don’t you start at the beginning?” I have to keep myself under control and not tear out of here to find her father and beat his ass.
“Okay, let’s start at the beginning. Then this can be done.”
I don’t like the words she’s using, but she has things to get off her chest, so I don’t say anything. Instead, I lean over to put my hand on her hip.
“My parents came to my house a couple of weeks ago to borrow money. Whenever they need money, I’m their personal ATM machine.” I grit my teeth to stop myself from saying or doing anything. I do, however, push my hand deeper into the mattress. “They were asking me questions about you, and I wanted to make sure they stopped, so I wrote them a check for a hundred dollars.”
“Okay.” That doesn’t sound so bad.
“I thought that was it. But then I got a phone call from my landlord.” Her voice quivers. “My house payment check bounced. I was like, that is literally impossible.” She sits up, and I put my hand on hers on her stomach. “Literally impossible. I pay my bills on time. At least the bills I know of.” She lifts a hand, waving it. “So I called the bank, because surely there was a mistake, but nope, no mistake. My parents had stolen a check from me, and my mother forged my signature.” The only thing going through my head is: What a fucking bitch. “They stole a thousand dollars from me.”
“Collins.” I say her name softly. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay.” She shakes her head as a sob rips through her. “It’s never okay. But it’s especially not okay this time because I’m having a baby. I can’t fucking afford to pay for their mistakes anymore.”