Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 164910 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 825(@200wpm)___ 660(@250wpm)___ 550(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164910 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 825(@200wpm)___ 660(@250wpm)___ 550(@300wpm)
But she just chuckles. “The only thing of Dallas’s I ever touch is his hair when I cut it.”
I don’t say another word, trying to ignore how I’d rather she slept with him. Somehow, cutting his hair feels more personal.
She sighs, leveling me with her gaze. “Trace slept at the bar, thanks to you. He barely spoke to her this morning, okay?” She tries to put my mind at ease. “Dallas was out all night. My husband only wants me, and Army and Iron are not in the habit of seducing…” She lowers her voice to a whisper. “…people who act like children.”
Sophia is more beautiful than ever, but a good man would know not to take advantage of her just because she has a woman’s body.
And I don’t believe for a second the Jaegers are good men.
“You think you’ll make friends with her, and it’ll change things with me?” I ask.
But she just shakes her head. “I think I’ll make friends with her, because I almost was her.” She inches closer, lowering her voice again. “Your friend Jerome Watson would’ve married me and taken me in there, and…”
And…
Yeah.
“Don’t think that I don’t know what went down,” she tells me.
I bite my tongue to keep my emotions in check.
Sometimes I think that what happened to my stepsister was a blessing for me. If it hadn’t hit so close to home, would I have ever cared? Would I have stood by, watching more people be taken advantage of in that room? I’d like to think I wouldn’t have, but I know for sure I won’t now.
I never gave two shits about Krisjen, but it’s hard not to admit that she’s probably a lot safer, married to Macon Jaeger. Safer in that respect anyway.
“She’s happy.” Krisjen smiles, her eyes light and hopeful. “Such a beautiful person, and I think the world needs to see it. Let her live her life.”
I turn away, taking a breath to think, but really, I don’t want her to see my face. The irony doesn’t escape me. For years, I could only talk to my stepmother about Sophia, but I almost never did. She was pleasant enough, but we never bonded, and after what happened, I resented her for not seeing it coming.
In the past few days, I’ve had more meaningful conversations about Sophia with the Jaegers than I have with the people I call family and friends.
I appreciate that Krisjen doesn’t want to change her. Doctors have tried and failed for years.
“She has episodes,” I say, pivoting around to face Krisjen again. “They’re rare, but if something triggers her, play ‘Once Upon a December’ on your phone as many times as possible until I can get there.”
Krisjen holds my eyes, but I can’t tell what she’s thinking before she finally nods once. “Okay.”
I’m sure this is another mistake, but I’ll deal with the consequences. It’ll be good for Sophia to be around women close to her age. Maybe it’ll bring her back to reality.
I don’t really want that, but it’s necessary. People need to evolve rather than staying stuck.
“I’m ready!” Sophia shouts from upstairs.
Glancing over my shoulder, I watch her jog down the stairs, one of those big smiles that parts the teeth spread across her face.
She leaps up to my side. “What time should I be back?”
I take in her favorite pair of tan bloomer shorts, and is that…?
I scowl, but only for a moment.
She’s wearing my shirt. One of my white dress shirts but with the collar open a couple of buttons and hanging so baggy and long it nearly covers her shorts.
I dart my gaze to Krisjen to see she’s wearing a similar outfit.
But I’m sure hers wasn’t six hundred dollars.
I swallow my grumble and tell her, “By three.”
They both acknowledge what I’ve said, and Sophia skips to the door, throwing it open. Krisjen follows and so do I.
“Clay!” Sophia waves her Harris Tweed newsboy cap. “I’ve got a hat, too!”
I peer through the doorway, noting Clay’s baseball cap to keep her hair tidy in the wind. She smiles at my stepsister, reaching over and opening the passenger door for her. Sophia sits right in front, already talking Clay’s ear off, and my chest swells so much it hurts. She looks happy.
“She’ll be fine,” Krisjen assures me.
I tip my gaze back down to her as she leaves the front step.
“The only part of you that was never safe in the Bay was your heart,” she says, slipping on her sunglasses.
I tip my chin up and look over her head as she leaves. She grabs the roll bar in the back of the truck and steps on the rear tire, climbing into the back of the vehicle. Clay never looks over at me.
In moments, they’re gone, and I close the door.
The silence of the house weighs heavier; even the ticking of the clocks and the subtle hum of the air conditioning seem to go dead silent.