Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 112926 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112926 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
He said the words as if he was asking me to marry him, and this was some grand proposal. Don't laugh, Lila. Don't. You. Dare. Laugh.
I brought a hand up, tapping my index finger against my jaw in a thoughtful manner. His eyebrows furrowed, and he started to look suspicious.
I let my own smirk show. “Hmm. Not nice enough for me. Sorry, try again next time.”
“What?” He let out a mock gasp, but I caught the grin on his face before I stepped around him.
Giving him a final glance over my shoulder, I winked.
“What a man would do for a piece of ass,” he grumbled loud enough for me to hear.
I marched away, and maaaybeee, I put an extra sway in my hips–giving him a good look of the ass he wanted so much but couldn't have. What could I say in my defense? It was fun teasing a man like Maddox.
I smiled as the memory faded away, and the bus came to a stop at Maddox’s place. I had been here a few times, even got to know his butler, Mr. Hokinson. I didn’t know people in this day and age had butlers, but apparently, people as rich as the Coulters did, in fact, have butlers.
I waved at the guard and walked through the gate. Mr. Hokinson was already at the door, as I expected. He must have been alerted by the gatekeeper the moment I stepped foot onto the property.
“Good afternoon, Miss Garcia,” he said politely with a slight southern drawl and a little bow. Cute, old Mr. Hokinson.
“Is Maddox home?” I asked, sounding hopeful even to my own ears.
He gave me a tentative nod, as if this was a secret. “He is, Miss Garcia. But he hasn’t left his room since this morning. He didn’t come down for breakfast or lunch, so we know to leave him alone.”
My fists clenched at my sides. “And his parents?”
Mr. Hokinson swallowed, averting his gaze from mine, but didn’t answer. Ever so loyal, what a fucking joke.
“I wish to see him.”
He sidestepped into my path when I tried to walk around him. “I’m sorry, but I can’t allow you.”
I raised an eyebrow and gave him a polite smile, even though I was feeling anything but. “Please tell me, Mr. Hokinson. Did Maddox tell you to keep me outside? Has anyone specifically said I’m not allowed into this house? Because from what I remember… Maddox said I can come and go any time I want. I have free rein, don’t I? Even you’re aware of that.”
The old man blinked and pursed his lips in silence. “Are you going against his words? I’m not sure he’s going to like that.”
“He–”
“I just want to know if he’s okay, and I’ll leave,” I interrupted before he could give me another excuse. Before Mr. Hokinson could stop me, I walked around him and into the house.
I took the stairs two at a time to his room. His door wasn’t locked, but I still knocked. Once, twice… four times, but there was no reply.
With caution, I opened the door and peeked inside. Nothing. Empty. Bare. No Maddox.
I walked inside to find the heavy drapes still down, blocking any sunlight from entering the dark room. There was something gloomy about the atmosphere. His bathroom’s door was open, though, and I could hear the water running.
There he was...
My brain stuttered for a moment and a shocked gasp escaped me. The sight of him had me stumbling and rushing into the bathroom. “Maddox!”
No. No. Please, no.
I fell to my knees beside the overfilled tub. He sat inside, fully clothed with an empty bottle of…
God, no.
Maddox stunk of alcohol and cigarettes. I almost gagged at how heavy the smell was. His eyes were closed, his head barely staying above water. My heart fell to the pit of my stomach, cramped and twisting with nausea at the distraught look on his beautiful face. There were shadows under his eyes, as if he didn’t sleep the night before.
I cupped his cheek. “Hey, Maddox.” I gave him a gentle shake.
His bloodshot eyes fluttered open, and I could see the naked pain in his eyes. Maddox, strong and carefree Maddox, looked… beaten. Not physically. There were no injuries marking his body, but he looked wounded in spirit.
“Oh, baby. What happened?” He didn’t respond, not that I was expecting a reply.
“Go away,” he grumbled under his breath. God, he was pissed drunk. How many drinks did he have?
“And leave you in the tub like this?” I asked gently. “I can’t leave you now, Maddox.”
Maddox closed his eyes, his shoulders slumping further into the water. “Don’t… need a… lecture.”
There was a strain in his voice–a voice that used to be full of warmth – now so cold and… empty.
“We need to get you to bed. You can sleep this off, but you need a bed. Not a tub full of ice water.”