Total pages in book: 209
Estimated words: 196085 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 980(@200wpm)___ 784(@250wpm)___ 654(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 196085 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 980(@200wpm)___ 784(@250wpm)___ 654(@300wpm)
I have to fix this.
When nothing magical comes, I spill out the truth. “I hated my fucking life. I fucking hated it before you. You’re the only thing that’s made sense to me as far back as I can remember. This,” I point to her heart then back to mine, then again. “This connection. I didn’t know this was even possible. I didn’t know this existed.”
She lets out a long breath and my heart feels like it’s going to explode. I can’t lose her. She’s mine. I honestly believe I would die without her now.
“Without you, Babybear. Now, without you, I’d be adrift. You might as well put me face down in that swamp back there because I don’t care about any of it without you anymore. Nothing makes sense now if you aren’t here.”
“Boss.” A voice from behind me interrupts and I turn to see George. “We need you.”
“I need a minute. I’ll be there.” He spins and heads back toward the cabin.
Ginger reaches out to flatten her hand over my heart before she speaks. “Promise me you won’t hurt anyone else. Promise me you’ll stop all this. I can’t live knowing you’re in danger.”
“Promise.” The word is out before I think it through, wanting to give her everything. Wanting to make this right at any cost. “And baby.” I hold the side of her head in my hand. “I am not playing tit for tat here, but why didn’t you tell me about your family? Why did you feel like you couldn’t trust me with that?”
I don’t use the words ‘lie to me’. She did, but right now I’m the one owning that word about what I’ve done. What concerns me is why she didn’t trust me enough with the family stuff.
My stuff? Shit, I couldn’t tell her. Yes, I was afraid I would lose her. There’s that. But worse, I couldn’t make her an accessory. That’s not something I could live with if things ever came to light with the cops.
She looks away and her cheek warms in my palm.
“It took everything I had to get away from them. I thought if I told you, you would want me to make amends or have contact and that scared the hell out of me. You’re the one that said you’d never turn your back on your family no matter what. Family was everything. You’d lost yours and anyone that wasn’t there for theirs was the worst sort of—”
“Hey.” I cut her off.
My heart breaks, knowing she listened to what I said about family while she had been forced to run from her own. The words I spoke must have cut her and given what I now know—how much disappointing me devastated her—I understand in one way, but in another it’s a weakness somehow on my part that she couldn’t come to me and explain.
I hold her eyes to mine for a long moment before finishing. “It’s okay, Babybear. I love you. I fucking love all of you. Even the imperfect parts, remember? We need to figure this out. Both of us. Why we lied for different reasons, but how we cannot do it again. Lies push us apart. But right now, I have to go take care of this business inside. I want you to stay here—”
“No.” She returns my cut off with her own. “I’m coming.”
My gut twists as I move her off my lap and sit her in the back seat next to me.
“You don’t want to do that.” I’m stern because I know what’s about to happen. At least to him. And she can’t be witness.
“Why not?” She glares back at me, pushing off from me and setting her feet firmly on the floor of the car.
“Because there are things I have to do.” I back myself out of the car and wave one of the guys over. “Make sure she stays here.” I order.
“You’re not making sure I’m staying anywhere.” She bolts out of the open door and before I can grab her arm she’s at a sprint to the cabin.
I’m right behind her but she’s already in the front door of the cabin, looking at the unfolding scene.
Calfus is strapped to a chair, duct tape wrapping completely around him: his legs, his mouth; and the grandmother is on the sofa with a gun to her head. It’s not a scene I want her to see.
“You want her out before you take care of him?” George nods toward the grandmother.
“Nobody is taking care of anybody.” Ginger shouts, turning to me and looking stone cold serious in her donkey pajamas. “Are you serious? You just promised me—”
“Change of plans.” I say to George.
“What?” he draws his brow together. “He’s not leaving here breathing. That’s what you said and I happen to agree with it.”
Ginger spins, shooting me with daggers from her eyes then pointing a wagging finger at George.