Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69327 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69327 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
But it was a degree, and since getting it kept me away from my dad all the time that it did, I’d gone. After two years, my dad had demanded that I have something to show for his hard-earned money—let alone the fact that I, as well as my siblings, were free freakin’ labor for him any time he needed it—and I’d graduated.
Luckily, he’d died before I’d had to go back home and live under his roof.
I didn’t like my dad.
In fact, I didn’t think any of our siblings liked our father.
He was a mean drunk, chose where we went and when we went, for years. Couldn’t care less if we went to the dentist, were up to date on shots, or hell, even had antibiotics when we were sick. And God forbid we wanted to visit with our mothers.
Though, my mother wasn’t my favorite person in the world.
I mean, she was nice when I saw her, but it was like we were two friends visiting, and not mother and daughter. Normal moms didn’t allow the fathers to take their children with zero fight.
But my mom had.
My dad had demanded she hand me over, and she had. No fight whatsoever.
Luckily, Keene was there to raise us, even though he was only eight years older than we were—and yes, all the sisters were all close in age. My dad must’ve gone on a bender when we’d all been conceived, because he’d slept with five women in a six-month time period who’d gotten pregnant. Whether or not it was on purpose on his end, I didn’t know. But there we were, living proof that my father didn’t know what the point of a condom was.
But it was okay. We’d gotten our revenge. We were turning his precious, roaming circus into a permanent event instead of a circus that followed the fuckin’ NASCAR schedule to a T. And yes, my father loved NASCAR. Which, of course, was why he tried to make all of his stops coincide with each NASCAR stop so that he could get to every freakin’ race that was available for him to go to.
Then, because he had to make all the festivities that led up to a freakin’ race, he made sure to leave us on our own from a very young age to fend for ourselves.
Hell, Dad was lucky we didn’t burn the tent city down around us.
But now he was dead, and we were living life the way we wanted to.
We had a permanent address.
We were making things work.
We were…
My gaze caught on a body in front of me.
Up ahead, I watched as the man from the bar reached up, pulled at his hair, and the damn wig he was wearing came right off.
His real hair?
Close-cropped in a buzz cut. Dark as night.
Just like I’d envisioned.
“Hey, lady. Watch where you’re going!”
I jolted, unaware that I’d nearly walked into a family of four as I’d watched the man rip his wig off.
A wig.
What in the hell…
“Sorry,” I murmured as I moved around them.
When I looked back up, he was gone.
I hurried faster, intent on finding him just to watch him a bit longer, but he was nowhere. Like he’d disappeared into a cloud of nothing.
Cursing to myself, I kept walking, my legs already protesting my fast pace.
I’d run seven miles.
Six months ago when we’d decided to change our lives, I’d decided to change mine even further.
I’d decided to run a marathon.
Well, not just a marathon.
A lot of races.
At Disney. I was going to do the Dopey Challenge. Four races, all in the same weekend. A 5K, 10K, half marathon and full marathon. All at the ass crack of dawn.
And all by my damn self.
I was…
A hand snaked around my middle just as I’d been about to pass a shadowed alley.
Before I could scream, another hand covered my mouth, and I was proved horrifically wrong.
My twenty-two would do me no good at all.
Not when the man holding me, dragging me deeper and deeper into the shadows, had such a firm grip on my body.
Fear coursed through me as a lightning bolt of shock kept me from reacting.
I should’ve been fighting.
I should’ve been…
“Why have you been staring at me all night?” the deep, velvety smooth voice asked right against my ear.
That melty chocolate voice caused shivers of something I didn’t understand down my spine.
“Cat got your tongue?” he teased, leaning forward and biting my ear.
My heartbeat skyrocketed, and I gasped against his hand.
My lips parting allowed him to slip a single finger into my mouth.
Then he tugged it so that I was staring up at him in shock.
I could see him.
When had that happened?
“Answer me,” he ordered.
With his finger in my mouth?
How was I supposed to do…
His finger disappeared and his hand went to my neck and he started to squeeze.