Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 138287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
God, I wanted her. I wanted her so bad.
Wet and aroused, I massaged the plump globe and watched her belly contract.
Yeah.
I grinned.
She liked it.
“Connor.”
With my hand still on her, I looked up into her face. What I saw was a little confusing. “Baby,” I said softly, releasing her tit. “Why are you crying?”
Emmy took a moment. “I’m sad,” she confessed, looking up into my eyes.
I stepped into her and rubbed her arms up and down, gently. “Why?”
Whoever hurt my girl was going to pay. I’d fucking kill ‘em.
“Because…” She closed her eyes and her lips trembled. She tried again. Her whispered words shot me in the heart. “Because you’re killing yourself.” She lifted the gun and shot again. “And you’re succeeding.”
“No, baby,” I reassured her. “That’s not true.”
But then she lifted my hand, holding it tenderly.
My bloody knuckles were raw.
When did that happen?
Just now?
I frowned down at my hand. I couldn’t even feel the pain.
Emmy was shivering and her body had broken out in goosebumps. I looked to see her lips were turning blue. The water had since gone cold.
And I didn’t feel that either.
My soggy, sweet girl stood there in the cold, in her underwear, crying, all for me.
She was my wettest dream and my deepest regret.
My mind was a mess.
Maybe I did have a problem.
Naked and sobering quickly, I put my back to the tiled wall, sliding down to the wet, tiled floor. Emmy soon matched my move.
We sat there for a long while, opposite each other, and I watched her blue lips quiver as her teeth chattered audibly.
She was here for me.
She was here with me.
When she spoke some time later, her voice was hoarse. “You need to go back to rehab.”
Her makeup had started to run. Trails of blackness dripped down her cheeks.
My Emmy… she looked dismal.
I don’t know how much time passed before I replied, but my voice was equally gruff. “Okay, baby.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Rehab.
Emmy
It had been four days since Connor entered rehab for the third time in as many years. The entire drive up, I was worried he’d do something drastic like tuck-and-roll out of the car but he surprised me. He allowed me to walk him in and help him get settled.
I fretted a little.
Would he try to check himself out that very same day?
No.
Truth was, he looked too weak to even stand on his own.
But it was day four and I was allowed to visit. I was naively optimistic.
I shouldn’t have been.
I heard the commotion the moment I walked in.
“I’m done here. You hear me?” Connor yelled, “I’m done!” Something crashed, smashing onto the floor. “Let me out!”
Slowly removing my sunglasses, I went over to reception and when the nurse spotted me, she threw me a weary look. I let out a long sigh. “That bad, huh?”
“He doesn’t stop.” The nurse shook her head. “Where does he get the energy?”
Smiling sympathetically, my shoulders jerked. “He’s a rock star.”
“Ah,” came out of her mouth, like it all suddenly made sense.
The nurse handed me the book and I signed myself in, taking the visitor sticker she offered and placing it on my jacket. I was led into the recreation room and when I saw him, my stomach dipped.
Connor was a mess. His hair was greasy, he hadn’t shaved, and his face was sunken. He also looked to be in the middle of verbally assaulting an orderly. “These aren’t for me. I need you to listen to me.” He threw the pills across the room. “I don’t belong here!”
My heart sunk.
I wasn’t stupid. I didn’t expect Connor to be cured after four days but I did expect progress. And from the looks of things, he was in fact regressing.
“Connor.” He looked around but he was edgy and couldn’t focus. “I’m here.”
When his panicked gaze set on me, his entire demeanor changed.
“Emmy.” His rigid shoulders slackened and his taut jaw relaxed. “Baby.” He looked lost and when he ran at me, I let him pick me up and swing me around. He set me on my feet, wrapped his arms around me, and he was not letting go.
Oh, God.
He smelled terrible. Like sweat and vomit, and when he pulled back, I saw why.
The telltale yellow stains on his tee told me he hadn’t showered in a while. And those stains looked to be puke.
I swallowed hard, trying not to retch.
“Honey.” I smiled up at him. “When did you shower last?”
His gaze was bleak. “I-I don’t know.”
The orderly piped in, “Three days ago. He refuses to shower. He refuses to take his pills. He won’t even let us in his room to change the soiled sheets.”
“You shut the fuck up!” Connor roared at him before he calmed, taking my hand. “Emmy, they won’t let me out of here.”
“I know, sweetie.” I led him away from the orderly then kindly asked the older man, “Can you please change his bedding? I’ll see if I can get him to shower.”