Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
She bailed before I could come up with a plan to make her want to stay. “Fuck,” I growl under my breath, realizing it isn’t just her leaving. I pushed her away. Gave her every damn reason to leave when all I wanted was for her to stay.
Anger bubbles up inside me, then bursts out in a yell that does jack shit to ease the rage. Makes me want to tear something apart.
But I don’t. Instead, I head over to Ace Motors and throw myself into fixing up the Shelby. It’s the only thing that makes sense right now.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Cassidy
A part of me feels bad about leaving Diesel the way I did, without a goodbye, but fuck him. He didn’t even try to believe me.
I liked him. A lot. More than I should have let myself like him since he thinks I’m a liar. Just thinking about it pisses me off.
He doesn’t believe me or even try to believe me. And without trust, we’re nothing more to each other than sex buddies. Okay, that’s fine with me, but my poor, stupid heart didn’t get the memo and let herself get involved beyond the naked, sweaty times.
“It’s fine,” I say out loud because I need to hear it. “Mom always says that heartbreak builds character.” Dad always says that she’s too romantic for her own good, and he had to save her from herself. But…and this is a big but, he always has stars in his eyes when he says it. I want what they have, so I’ve been lying to myself.
I thought Diesel might be that guy who ticked off the items on my list. He’s spontaneous, fucks like the dirtiest of gods, and has his own life. So he wouldn’t trip about me being on the road and away from him for weeks at a time.
I allow myself to dwell on my time in Angel Harbor with Diesel until I reach the Nevada border, and then I vow to put the man out of my mind for good.
Soon, the California desert turns to the Nevada desert, and as soon as I see the sign welcoming me home, I give myself a pep talk.
“No more dwelling on my time in Angel Harbor and no more thinking about Diesel. It was a fun fling full of amazing orgasms and nothing more. Focus on seeing Mom and Dad again and being home.”
It’s easier said than done, but I have sixty more miles to make it happen and figure out how to explain the fading bruises and fucked up hand to my parents.
I can’t tell them about the kidnapping, or they’ll never let me leave the house again. So I focus on my excuse, which, of course, only leads to thoughts of my rescuer and protector. Thoughts of how he comforted and soothed me through the nightmares.
“And the nightmares.” There’s no way I can explain waking in the middle of the night screaming without telling them everything. Suddenly, I realize home is the last place I should be, but it’s too late. I’m already here.
The house sits on the outskirts of town on a huge lot, roomy enough for both Dad and me to park our trucks. The low glow bouncing off the windows tells me that Dad is still up, but I don’t see Mom’s car in the driveway and figure she’s at one of her many meetings.
“I got this,” I say and jump from the cab, making my way to the front door, where I slide my key into the lock.
“Cassidy? Is that you?” Dad is on his feet as soon as I walk in the door, the TV forgotten as he crosses the living room to wrap me in a fierce hug. “Where in the hell have you been? And don’t say nowhere because I know that’s not true.”
I frown. “I’ve been working, Dad. I sent you a text.”
He flashes a sad smile and wraps an arm around me, escorting me to the kitchen table or, as he likes to call it, his office. “For so few words, that message was full of bullshit. Now tell me the truth.”
“There was a little trouble on the road, Dad. Nothing I can’t handle.” I lie easily because an outright denial will only cause more questions. “And then there was a guy. Didn’t work out, and here I am.”
He studies me for a long time, but I resist the urge to squirm. Dad isn’t an easy parent. Worries too much and notices everything. So, his steady gaze makes me uncomfortable. “And the hand you’re trying to hide. Is that from the trouble or the man?”
Both. “The trouble. The man only broke my heart.”
“I’m sorry, honey. Want me to kick his ass?”
I laugh at the idea of my dad, with a growing spare tire around the middle, going head-to-head with Diesel.