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)
When I look at her, I want to cry. One eye is swollen shut, and her face is bruised.
This is all my fault.
“It isn’t your fault. I can see that thought written all over your face. You didn’t get a choice to be born into this family. Do not blame yourself. I would have done the same for any of the girls.”
“But I’m not married to your son,” I remind her.
“No, you are not.” This comes from Keir, who looks at Joey and then eyes me. I turn away from his gaze, feeling guilt I can’t seem to get rid of.
“That doesn’t matter. You are a part of this family. We all accept that. Again, I don’t blame you, and neither does anyone in this room.” I don’t have the courage to look behind me where I know Joey will be standing. “You should see a doctor while you’re here. You don’t look well.”
“I’ll be fine. I just wanted to check on you before I go and see Jerome.”
“He’s with Merci,” Joey informs his mother.
She nods and closes her one good eye. “Okay, well, now everyone is safe, I think I might sleep for a bit.”
“That’s your cue to leave,” Keir says, staring at me.
I nod and turn without argument.
“Let me take you home.”
“I need a minute,” I tell him, then walk to the nearest bathroom. As soon as I know I’m alone, the tears I’ve held back fall without my permission. And they don’t seem to want to stop. Why can’t I make them stop? I wipe my eyes furiously, but they keep coming. My face is covered in dirt, my hair is a mess, and I can see all the marks that asshole left behind as reminders of him. I feel as bad as I look.
Turning on the water and splashing my face, I try to get rid of some of the dirt before I go to see Jerome. I don’t want him to think anything bad. I’m not even sure I want him to know what an awful man his father was. It was hard enough for me to deal with, so I don’t want to put that pressure on him until he is old enough to understand.
After managing to get the dirt from my face and frm under my nails, I decide to put my whole head under the running water. I scrub as much dirt out of my hair as possible, then put my head under the hand dryer.
A knock sounds at the door, followed by Joey’s voice. “Can I come in?”
I reach for the door and unlock it, then put my head back under the dryer, so I don’t have to look at him. I hear the door lock, and when I turn my head slightly, I see his shoes rooted near the door.
“I had to get rid of the dirt,” I say over the noise of the dryer.
“Okay.”
“I couldn’t go home to him like that.”
“I know.”
I lift my head from under the dryer, and the noise stops. Joey walks over to me and pulls a hairband from his wrist, smiling as he hands it to me. “It’s probably Chanel’s, so don’t tell Lucas.”
Taking it, I put my hair up and check the mirror. Now that the dirt is gone from my face, I see my lip is starting to swell. My hair looks a little bit cleaner, but I still need to wash it properly.
My stomach hurts, but that can wait.
What I need is my son.
THIRTY
JOEY
I fell in love with her strength before I fell in love with anything else about her.
You may ask how that is possible. I’m not sure, but that’s how it happened. It was her resilience and her no-bullshit attitude that turned me on the most.
Most women in my world are either willing or run for the hill, and she was neither. However, I think sometimes, with that attitude, she wanted to run for the hills.
I go to touch her as we sit in the car, but she turns her body away from me and looks out the window, indicating she wants no physical contact. Did he do something else to her that I’m unaware of? I wish I could have been the one to kill him, but I’m glad Adora was able to do it. She needed to with all the shit he has put her through. I don’t know how she has put up with it for so long.
Lucas looks back a few times, and I can tell words are itching to come out of his mouth, but I simply shake my head at him in the rearview mirror.
When the car stops out front of my place, she doesn’t automatically go to get out. Her leg starts bouncing, and her hand grips the door handle as she looks toward the front door.