Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Dean sighed, and then did what any sane man would do. He let me have my way.
He watched while I walked across the parking lot, hands fisted because he still had trouble letting me go too far from him.
I knew it would be like this for a while. I’d only been back for a few weeks, and in those weeks I’d given into Dean’s demands, knowing he needed me to stay close because he was worried I might disappear again.
Marching into the diner that Alexa still ate at every week even though she knew that Dean and I would be there at the same exact time, I walked right up to her and stopped in front of her table.
She was just getting up, her face dejected—likely because she’d hoped to see Dean, and hadn’t.
Though, we’d been late today due to the fact that Dean had come home and caught me in the shower, bent over, washing my girly bits with soap.
After Dean was finally done with me, we’d missed our usual dining time by about forty-five minutes.
Alexa froze the minute her eyes locked on mine, and her mouth turned up into an almost automatic sneer.
“What are you doing here.” She bared her teeth. “Where’s PD?”
“I want you to stay away from Dean.” I told her. “I want you to stop making advances toward him. I want you to let us live our lives.” I stared at her. “He’s mine. He’ll never be yours. Admit defeat and bow down gracefully.”
“You don’t even let him be him.” she crossed her boney arms over her chest. “He goes by PD; don’t you know?”
“He goes by PD to those that don’t know him like I do…you know…intimately.”
She growled, then tried to win back ground.
“He didn’t even remember your birthday,” she said snottily. “Remember? That speaks of not caring that much about you, to me.”
I looked at her with a bored expression on my face.
“He remembered my birthday,” I explained to her. “He told me just a few days ago when I found out about your rude ass trying to offer him a blow job when he was worried sick about me. I was ready to beat your ass right then and there, but then I realized something.”
She glared at me.
“What?” She sneered. “That you’re missing an arm and it wouldn’t be a fair fight?” A wide, malignant smile widened her lips. “Or is it that you’re too fat?”
I might or might not have lost it then.
“I’m not fat,” I told her bluntly. “I’m still losing the baby weight…baby weight that Dean had an integral part in putting on my body in the first place…something that you’ll never ever experience.”
Her eyes narrowed, and then dropped down to my belly.
I’d been wearing loose shirts for the last few weeks, but since I’d woken up this morning and decided that I was no longer fighting the inevitable, I finally broke down and tried on one of my old shirts.
And I looked damn cute in it, even standing next to the whore-eyed beauty that tried to steal my man while I was busy living in hell.
Though, I had to admit, I did fill it out a little more than I had previously.
“You’re lying. I’ll bet that was all a big fake,” she reached for my shirt and tried to snatch it away from my skin.
To do what, I didn’t know, but I would never know.
Mainly because Dean was there, shielding me in his large, comforting arms.
“Don’t you ever…fucking ever…touch my woman again. Or you’ll wish you never did when I’m through with you.” Dean hissed.
“PD…” she reached for him.
And that’s when I clocked her.
Damn it felt good to be a gangster.
Epilogue
If you kiss her just right, you won’t have to rip her panties off her. She’ll rip them off herself.
-Words of wisdom
July
12 months later
I pulled my car over to the side when I saw Dean turn the corner of the street behind me. Frantically, I reached for my phone, crying out in relief when I found it on the first reach into my purse.
I’d found that being one handed seriously sucked when you were in a rush.
Most times, with enough patience, I could get anything done.
I’d learned to feed, dress and clean myself. I could cook. I could drive. I could do almost anything—I just needed to take my time.
It was when I was in a hurry that things started to get difficult.
With the way Dean was running toward me, I’d have to hurry or I’d miss my chance, and let’s just say I wasn’t very good under pressure.
When I finally got YouTube pulled up, I typed Rocky into the search bar and grinned manically as the song started to play through my new car’s speakers.
The car that had all the newest bells and whistles on it…the one Dean had forced me to get.