Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 124451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 498(@250wpm)___ 415(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 498(@250wpm)___ 415(@300wpm)
If only I weren’t so stubborn. A normal person in my predicament would have pressed the big, red for-the-love-of-God-someone-please-help-me button that’s conveniently placed on the wall right next to the toilet paper.
Fuck my life. How did I get here?
I’ve been out of my bed for long enough, and at some point, I’m either going to tear my stitches or somebody will walk in to witness my humiliation, and knowing my luck, it’ll probably be Riley. The asshole has been non-stop messaging me all day, wondering what the deal is with my ass cherry. It’s his messed-up little way to let me know he’s thinking of me, but the joke’s on him. My ass cherry was popped long ago, I just wish it wasn’t. The whole ordeal wasn’t pretty, and I was way too underprepared for a monster like that. It only happened once, but my ass never forgave me. I said it at the track as a joke to help calm Tanner down, but now the more it’s mentioned, the more my curiosity is piqued.
Shit. I shouldn’t be thinking about ass stuff while stuck on the toilet.
Giving it another try, I suck in a breath and prepare myself for toilet domination … fuck, no. That doesn’t sound right. Unless someone feels like shoving laxatives down my throat, there will be no toilet domination today.
Planting my feet firmly on either side of the bowl and gripping the drip, I clench my eyes and give it one last try, hauling myself up and feeling as though all my guts and insides are about to come falling out of my stab wound. “Holy fuck,” I breathe, wobbling on my feet and using the wall to keep me upright.
Maybe it’s time for more painkillers.
After struggling through washing my hands, I finally get out of the bathroom, only for my whole world to crash and burn once again. My mom and Orlando crowd my room as though they have every right to be here, and the irritation I feel at seeing both their faces is like nothing I’ve ever known.
I should have let the toilet end me.
My jaw clenches as their heavy stares fall on me. “Now you decide to show up?” I mutter, gripping tighter onto the pole of the drip, wondering what kind of weapon it could make as I studiously ignore the way my mom wears her despair on her sleeve. I mean, damn. If she wanted to care about me, the time for that has passed.
“You honestly think anything in the world is going to keep me from seeing my daughter?” Mom questions, as if horrified by the very thought of not being able to see me in the flesh.
Dropping my ass to the edge of my bed, I try to scoot back into my spot and get comfortable. “Well, the sun certainly did. Tanner said he called you hours ago. I was looking for you and you weren’t here,” I tell her, unable to hide the pain in my voice. “The one time I really needed you, and you weren’t here.”
“Oh, honey,” Mom says, walking around the side of my bed to perch her ass beside me. She finds my hands and scoops them into hers, holding them tight. “It’s not like that at all. You know I would have dropped everything to be here with you. I’ve never been so scared in my life. I thought I was losing you.”
Pulling my hands out of hers, I look away, unable to handle the pain in her eyes. It’s so fake, so forced, and it only makes it hurt that much more. “Talk all you want, Mom. You can tell me how you would have dropped everything to be here until you’re blue in the face, but the fact is, you didn’t. You weren’t here.”
“Bri—”
“No,” I say, hating how obvious I am about how much her absence has hurt me. “Have you ever been stabbed, Mom? Have you ever laid in the grass bleeding out? I thought I was going to die. I’ve never been so scared in my life, and all I needed was to wake up and have you here, but you let me down. Again. You were supposed to be my family, but that means nothing to you now, does it? You’ve got the fancy husband and the fancy car. Money, mansion, designer clothes—nothing else matters to you anymore.”
Mom stands, gaping at me as though she can’t believe the words coming out of my mouth. “How dare you say that,” she whispers, her hand pressing to her lips as she tries to hide just how horrified she is. But hell, actions speak so much louder than words.
“Where were you when Colby wrapped my car around that tree, huh?” I ask. “I sure as hell didn’t see you by my hospital bed then. Or what about when Erica and Colby had me arrested on rape charges? Rape, Mom. I didn’t see you in the precinct demanding my release. Hell, all I saw was your palm across my face. You believed every one of their lies. How could you do that to me? You believed the word of a rapist over your own daughter. You’ve remained with a man who would rather help a rapist walk free than defend your daughter.”