Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 69452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
I’d just decided that I needed to do that between chicken wings.
I’d thought I’d gotten a second chance at that today when I’d seen her at the candy shop.
Then again when I’d watched her walk into my grandmother’s bathroom.
But her solid resolve in having nothing to do with me was enough for me to realize that Merriam had to fix her own life first before I could bring her into mine.
She had to make the decision to…
A knock sounded on my door.
“Hey, Gram,” I said. “My building manager is here.”
At least, that was the only person I’d been expecting.
Josh was the manager that kept all the units in order, and today he’d told me he had a new rental agreement he wanted me to go over.
I’d told him to bring it by any time but hadn’t really expected him so fast since he had to drive to get the information to me.
Hanging up with my grams, I put the phone in my pocket and walked to the door.
I opened it without looking, which was why I appeared so shocked when I saw who was on the other side of the door.
“Merriam!” I breathed.
She swallowed hard, her eyes filled with tears, and said, “I need help.”
I reached for her, pulling her inside.
“Did he hurt you again?” I demanded. “Anleigh?”
The little girl in her arms wasn’t moving. Her head rested on her mother’s chest, and she was so lethargic that her mom had to clutch the bear for her instead of doing it herself.
“What had happened?”
“I…” She looked away.
And just that short amount of movement allowed me to see a red mark on her throat.
Almost on autopilot, I reached for her daughter, pulling her into my arms.
The bear fell to the floor, and neither mother nor child made a move toward it.
Anleigh transferred her limp body from her mother’s chest to mine, allowing me to get a good glimpse of Merriam’s throat.
My heart stuttered in my chest at the very apparent hand mark that was covering the length of it.
“He choked you,” I whispered, fury rising inside of me.
She made a sound in her throat and said, “I woke up this morning, and Anleigh had a fever. So I went to the bathroom where I keep her baby ibuprofen. It was gone, and the only time any of my stuff is gone is when my dad uses it. And since he’s my dad, he doesn’t bother to put it back into my cabinet where it belongs. So I went out to the kitchen and…”
She touched her throat. “Today is the day that my mother died giving birth to me twenty-four years ago.”
My heart sank.
“Today is your birthday?” I asked.
She swallowed and it looked like it pained her before she nodded. “Yeah.”
I curled some of her hair behind her ear and said, “Happy birthday.”
Tears welled in her eyes.
“I had to go to the store and get some medicine for her.” She gestured at Anleigh, who still lay so still against my chest. “I was there in the car, and this overwhelming sense of wrongness filled me at the thought of going back into that house.”
My hand dropped to her shoulder, and with zero resistance, she came toward me when I gave her a gentle nudge.
Her face buried in my arm, right next to Anleigh’s chest, and she began to cry silently.
I closed my eyes as the urge to park them both in my bed and haul ass toward their house nearly bowled me over.
I could happily kill that man right now.
“Tree.”
The near-silent whisper had me saying, “What did you just say, Anleigh?”
“Tree,” she whispered again.
“She loves Christmas trees,” Merriam whispered through her tears.
I pulled Merriam in closer, my face going to the top of her head as I tried to reassure her that everything would be okay.
“I was just decorating it,” I said to Anleigh. “Do you want to help me?”
She nodded against my shoulder.
Merriam pulled back and quickly dashed away the tears that were staining her face.
“I just…I didn’t know where to go,” she said. “Gisela can barely clothe and feed herself because she’s taking care of all of her brothers. I don’t…I don’t have anyone else.”
I cupped her face and said, “I wouldn’t have given you my personal details if I didn’t want you here.”
She drew in a deep breath when the tears once again welled in her eyes.
“I felt a connection to you the moment I saw you at the skating rink,” I told her honestly. “When you left early from the restaurant, I felt like a piece of my soul had left with you.”
She bit her lip, and I reached down to pop it free from her teeth before continuing. “Every subsequent time I saw you, this little voice at the back of my mind urged me to ask you to stay.” I drew a deep breath and bent down, picking up the bear. “I walked into the outdoor mall area and saw a little girl on the tree. Every other child I picked off that tree that day, I gave right back to the attendant with a five-thousand-dollar check. But your little girl…” I held the bear. “I didn’t know her. I just knew that I had to buy this for her personally.”