Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 50527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 253(@200wpm)___ 202(@250wpm)___ 168(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 253(@200wpm)___ 202(@250wpm)___ 168(@300wpm)
Did Mom know she was fresh out of a relationship? Was she in love? Did they live together? A million questions I want to ask her hit me, but what I notice most is the jealousy that flares to life inside of me.
That another person played with her hair while they kissed her soft lips. They lay in bed with her, stroking and learning every curve of her body.
I guess I assumed, because if she was mine, there would be no way she’d be walking up a long driveway to a man’s house that she’d never been to. I’d have to be dead. That might not even suffice.
“Hiding is a strong word.” It’s not, but I keep that to myself, not wanting to spook her from telling me more. “The space is letting me clear my head. You know when you’re in the middle of something, sometimes you can’t see things clearly.”
“It happens to the best of us.” People get used to others' behaviors and start to accept them as normal when they are not. It can be a slow build. So slow a lot don’t notice it happening.
“I’m feeling kind of stupid.” Her mouth turns downward, and I don’t like it.
“Why don’t you lay it on me?” There’s no way I’m going to be able to sleep at night, knowing something is bothering her. I shouldn’t care, but now it’s the only thing I can think about.
“I don’t know.” She nibbles on her bottom lip, and I know she wants to talk about it.
“My scars.” I start opening up about myself. If I want her to share, I’ll have to do the same. Never in my life have I felt the need to explain how I got them, but I find I want her to know. “I was in a car accident. Went right off the side of a cliff. I shouldn’t have lived.”
“Oh my gosh.” She puts a hand to her chest. I keep going, enjoying her attention on me even if it’s a topic I don’t care to talk about.
"I don’t usually discuss this, and I lack solid proof since the evidence was destroyed in the fire, but I suspect that someone tampered with my brakes. That’s one of the last things I remember before I crawled out, barely escaping the flames." I slammed on the brakes over and over, but it did nothing. The car wasn’t over a few months old.
“You think a person tried to kill you?” I know it seems farfetched.
“It lingers in the back of my mind.”
“That’s terrible.” She nibbles on her bottom lip again. I’m starting to think it’s a tell for her that she has more to say but is stopping herself.
“You can ask questions.”
“You’re telling me these things so I’ll share?” She tilts her head, watching me.
“Is it working?”
“Yes.”
“Then ask,” I nudge her along.
“Is the accident why you moved out here? I didn’t see any articles on it.” Gwen lets out a small gasp at her own slip.
“Googling me?” The thought of her researching me warms my chest. If it were anyone else, I’d think there was an angle. There often is when you have money.
“Maybe.” She cringes, her cheeks turning pink. I wonder if her blush spreads down to her chest.
“As you should. A girl coming out here all alone. Hell, you should have gotten a background check.” I don’t love that she is so willing to stay here. It was far too easy to talk her into it.
"Thanks."
"Thanks?"
"For letting me off the hook with that one."
"I'm not letting you off of anything." Gwen has no idea how deeply I mean that when it comes to her. "But yes, it's part of why I moved. My grandparents used to own a home here. I loved coming here as a kid, and I was over the politics of it all in the business world. Everyone stabbing the other in the back. I don't enjoy living my life like I have to question everyone's intentions." It’s wearing, and you start to ask yourself why you’re doing it at all.
“It super sucks when you have to question the people around you.” She speaks clearly from experience.
“It does super suck.” I wink at her, making her smile, that blush lighting up again. I had no clue a blush could be sexy as fuck. “And who are you questioning?”
“The person who I thought was my best friend. We’ve been friends since college. He’s a few years older than me.” He? I grit my back teeth. I’m already questioning his intentions too, but maybe I’m being sexist. Kindred and I can be close, although it’s more sibling-like, but I still don’t let her in that far, and I wouldn't call her my best friend. “I think maybe he has cornered me.”
I’m right. I already know what this fuckwit is up to. He wants her; there’s no way he doesn’t. Can’t say I blame him, but too bad for him, she’s mine.