Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 123155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
A few others introduced themselves and I went through the motions, but my attention stayed focused on Cecilia. She was practically falling asleep in her chair.
The second time her eyes closed for a few seconds before she jerked them open again, I’d had enough. Rounding the table, I didn’t bother arguing with her, I just grabbed her hand and tugged her up beside me.
“What are you doing?” she asked with a yelp.
“Takin’ her to bed,” I told Farrah, ignoring Cecilia. “Can you bring Olive in?”
“Yep,” Farrah said with a nod. “As soon as she starts fussing. Give you guys a little time first.”
“Perfect.”
Cecilia was silent as I towed her through the clubhouse. I wasn’t sure if it was because she didn’t want everyone hearing our argument, or if she was just so wiped out that she was relieved I’d made the decision for her. Probably the former. She used to hate when her parents would get into loud arguments in front of everyone—it embarrassed the shit out of her—which was actually pretty funny since nothing else seemed to phase her.
“You need sleep,” I told her as we had some privacy.
“I need a shower first,” she said with a sigh. “I’m not climbing into bed like this.”
I thought about it for a moment, wondering just how far she was willing to argue. By the mutinous set of her mouth, pretty far.
“Alright, what do you need from the truck?”
“I can go,” she said, reaching up to rub at her eyes. “I need a bunch of crap and it’s all in different bags.”
“What do you need?”
“I can—” Her eyes met mine and her mouth snapped shut. She sighed. “I need a new pair of underwear, another sports bra, shirt, pants, and socks.”
“You need that baby soap we got at the store?”
“No.” She sat carefully on the bed. “My toiletries are in the diaper bag.”
“Alright.”
“You don’t have to wait on me,” she said softly.
“I don’t mind goin’ to get your stuff,” I said, reaching out to run my hand over her hair. God, she looked so worn down. I’d never seen her look so drained. “I’ll be right back.”
It took me longer than I wanted to find everything she’d asked for because my shoulder was throbbing like a bitch and I had to baby it—but eventually, I’d packed her an overnight bag and headed back toward the building. I didn’t notice Casper standing outside until he called my name.
“What’s up?” I asked, stopping a few feet away.
“Can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done,” he said, his words coming out with a billow of smoke. I glanced down at the joint in his hand and he raised it in invitation.
“I’m good,” I said with a shake of my head.
“Helps me sleep,” he said, leaning back against the brick wall. “Took sleepin’ pills for a bit, but they made me groggy as fuck. Plus, I’m not a fan of big pharma tryin’ to shove pills down my throat when this works better.”
I just nodded. I wasn’t sure where the conversation was going.
“You came through in a big way,” he said, nodding. “And I gotta ask, man, what now?”
“What do you mean?”
Casper grunted. “I mean, we get to Eugene and then what? You leavin’?”
I didn’t respond.
“If the past is any indication, you’re gonna take off and I’m gonna have a daughter in my house that’s inconsolable, angry at the world, and never leaves her room.” He took a hit off his joint, paused and then let it drift out his nose and mouth. “But from what I’m seein’ now, that might not be the case. Just tryin’ to get the lay of the land.”
“I don’t know,” I replied honestly. “There’s a lot of history there.”
“You’re tellin’ me,” he chuckled humorlessly. “But fuck, man. That shit never comes easy. It just don’t. Doesn’t matter what kind of history you got.”
“I think ours is probably worst than most.”
“Yeah,” he said. “You’d think that. But I know a few couples that had it worse, and they’re still fallin’ asleep together every night.”
I just stood there. I had no idea what the fuck I was going to do. Part of me wanted to put a fucking brand on Cecilia’s forehead so everyone knew she was mine. The other part wanted to get her where she needed to be and then go back to my boring, drama-free life.
Shit.
“Yeah, I see the wheels turnin’,” he said. “Think on it.”
He strode away into the darkness and I turned toward the door. I guess I was lucky that he hadn’t punched me while he had the chance. I’d always kind of been waiting for the payback, the retribution for completely fucking up his daughter’s life—but it never came. He’d always been civil, even when I’d come back to visit the year after it all went down.