Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 61082 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61082 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Joey.
I can’t deny that I love him.
It’s there, buried deep in my chest.
Butterflies flutter in my stomach when he is near. My heart pulsates when I see him.
I dream of him.
And only of him.
In my nightmares, he is always there as well.
I’m not sure which is worse.
Reaching for my ringing phone, I answer it without even looking.
I shouldn’t have.
“Adora…” I know his voice straight away. I would know it anywhere. Hanging up and throwing my phone, my nerves skyrocket as it continues to ring. It’s late, and everyone is asleep, and the last thing I want to do is wake anyone. Quickly getting up, I grab the phone and silence it. But it continues to vibrate. When it finally stops, I sit there staring at it from the bed, then it starts to ding with messages. They come in fast, and I can’t help watching them light up my screen. With shaky hands, I reach for it like it’s a ticking bomb and manage to open them.
Did you really think you could hide from me?
You took something that is mine.
That was your first mistake.
If you even think of involving them, you will never see my son again once I have him.
Make no mistake, Adora. Jerome is mine. Not yours.
I turn the phone off.
Jerome is his?
Ha. That’s a lie.
That asshole may have had him while I was here, but our son is mine. I remember how our son was conceived, and I remember how his grubby hands touched my body. I hated having his hands on me. Hated it.
When I first had Jerome, I thought I would get a break, but no, that was laughable. The doctor told Scott to wait six weeks, so he put a calendar on his phone, and the minute it hit six weeks, he was back between my legs. And it’s not like he went without. He was fucking people behind my back, and I had hoped that would suffice, that it would do, but it seemed I was wrong.
Scott has an unhealthy obsession with me.
I have never really understood why.
And I still don’t.
Getting up and going to the kitchen, I find Bianca drinking a glass of water. She offers me a small smile.
“Your sister was here today.” My mouth opens at her words—she didn’t tell me that at dinner. “I told her to come back when she was sober, and then you two can talk.” Drunk, I can’t even comprehend her. What is going on?
“I’m sorry,” I say, and she waves me off.
“It’s no problem, but I would watch that one. She doesn’t really show compassion. When she tried, I could tell it was fake.”
“I’m going to find somewhere to live. I can’t keep relying on you and Joey all the time,” I tell her honestly. I have too much crazy going on in my life, and the last thing I want to do is to bring it to her to her doorstep.
“But you can. That’s what family does. You should go and see him. You don’t look tired anyway.”
“I saw him today.” Joey mentioned Bianca wants us back together.
“I know, but he knows family issues.”
“I think I might just go to sleep,” I say, turning to go back to the bedroom.
“Adora.” I stop. “Goodnight.”
I say, “Goodnight,” and head back to bed.
That night, Scott was in my nightmares instead.
Abigail is waiting out front for me when I step out. Jerome smiles up at her, and she doesn’t even bother returning it.
“Why are you here again?” I ask. This time she didn’t come up to the door. Instead, she chose to wait for me downstairs at the front of the building.
“Do you not want to see me? You know the reason I’m in this mess is because of you,” she says. Her voice is high, but she isn’t screaming.
“I did not tell you to get in that car with those men. You chose that. Then you proceeded to follow those men back here. So do not play the victim card, Abigail.” Jerome tugs my hand. “I have to walk Jerome to school.” As I head down the sidewalk, she comes up beside me. I don’t tell her to go away because, despite everything, she is my sister.
“Do you know how he found you?” she asks. I look down at Jerome, who is too busy watching the cars drive by to pay us any attention. “You sent me a letter. The return address was your bookstore.” She smiles, and I take a deep breath as a wave of nausea hits me.
No.
No.
No.
“You’re lying,” I snap as we get to the school. The teacher takes Jerome’s hand, and I kiss him and sign him in for the day. He doesn’t even pause before he runs off, too excited to play with his friends. Abigail stays back at the gate, waiting for me. The teacher offers her a small wave, and she returns it before I make my way back to her.