Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126602 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126602 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
“Didn’t have parents. Had a woman who didn’t want me around. That’s it. I took up space.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“I took up space,” I repeated, saying it sharply this time as that anger rose up inside me, and as that voice echoed in my head, the one that never went away. “I wasn’t no son to her. I was nothin’. She did enough to keep DSS off her back, so she could keep gettin’ food stamps and whatever the fuck else I was able to get her, but extras like something to eat and new clothes when I needed it? Fuck, no. I took from her when she wasn’t lookin’, then I took from other people when she caught on and beat me so bad, I threw up all over myself.”
Shayla lowered the brush to her side, turning to face me. “Food and clothes aren’t extras, Sean,” she said. “She should’ve been providing for you. She beat you because you were hungry?”
“She beat me ’cause I was alive.”
Shayla sucked in a sharp breath. “What?” she whispered.
I learned to expect nothin’. I went out and took what I needed. Fuck that bitch. I made my own way. It was either that or fuckin’ die.”
“What about your dad?” she asked.
“Never had one. You wanna know more? Ask your brother.”
Shayla blinked. “You told him, you won’t tell me?”
“Don’t like talkin’ about that prick. It’s got nothin’ to do with you,” I said, then I promised her, “But there is shit I will never fuckin’ tell you about. Not ever. And that’s got to do with me and it’s got to do with you.”
“What shit is that?”
“You’ll know when you ask about it. If I tell you that’s off limits, or if I just get really fuckin’ quiet, do not push me, Shayla. Do you understand?”
She pinched her lips together, looking like a thousand words were trapped inside her mouth, and nodded her head.
Good. I needed her understanding this. She pushed me on a lot of different shit, but I wasn’t going there with her.
Then as I was turning back around, she murmured, “You never had a chance.”
“What?” I turned back.
Her eyes were glassy.
“You were born into hate. Children are supposed to be born into love. It’s unconditional, and you never had that,” she said. “What chance did you have? There was no one protecting you. It’s a miracle you are who you are, Sean, My God. I…” Abruptly, she sat her brush in the pan and started moving toward me.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
Shayla curtly shook her head, her lips pursed in anger, and reaching me, slipped her arms tight around my waist and pressed her body against mine.
I went stiff.
My arms were rigid at my side, and I held my breath as I looked at the top of her head. A second passed. Two seconds…“You done?” I asked.
“Nope.” She hugged me tighter. “Friends hug. It’s what they do. Deal with it.”
“You are the bossiest fuckin’ woman I’ve ever met.”
A laugh tore out of her, and she propped her chin on my chest and smiled up at me. “And you can get snippy.”
“Snippy?”
“Yep.”
“The fuck is snippy?”
“What you’re doing right now. The fuck is snippy?” she mimicked my voice, dropping hers lower and forcing it rough.
My eyes narrowed.
“Uh oh. There he goes again.”
“Yeah?” I lifted my brush, still damp with paint, and dragged it down the back of her. “How’s that for snippy?”
She gasped, then her eyes went steely as she slowly released me. “You have just declared war. I hope you’re prepared for the consequences.”
“From a midget? Can you even reach me with that brush?”
Mouth dropping open, Shayla dashed over to the roller with the longer handle and gripped it, challenge raising her brow.
“You’re fuckin’ on.”
“Ha!” she yelled.
Three hours later, the room was finished and nearly dry.
After cleanup, Shayla went home wearing one of my shirts covering her so paint stayed out of her car.
A half hour after she left, I crashed, feeling good about that room.
Feeling good in general.
Chapter Eleven
SHAYLA
“I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
I mixed up the pink toner while smiling back at Valerie, who was nervously tapping the arms of my sleek salon chair.
It had been two weeks since I last saw her, and per Caroline’s request, and apparently after going wild on Pinterest and looking up kickass hairstyles, Valerie was back to get some pink in her hair.
I couldn’t believe it myself until she showed up.
“This is exciting!” I said. Not only for her, but for me, as well.
Now I had the opportunity to tell more of the good stuff about Sean earlier than I was anticipating.
After our paint night where he revealed his god-awful upbringing, plus a couple more nights I’d gone over to help out where he shared a little bit more, I had become fully, whole-heart committed to talking Sean up in hopes Valerie would let him see his girls.