Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 70630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
I would’ve made the last two much the same if I hadn’t caught a dark figure looming at the end of the driveway.
As I got closer, I realized the dark figure belonged to two men, one of which being Georgia’s younger brother.
I slowed to a stop and looked at him, studying his body posture as he looked at the large pile of trash bags that’d been sitting there for nearly three days.
I could tell he was going to do something when he started strolling purposefully up the driveway.
He stopped cold, though, at the sound of my voice.
“Don’t do it,” I said in a warning tone.
He stopped and turned, his friend moving with him, and stared at me.
“What do you want?” He snapped.
I gestured to the bags, and then the car that must’ve belonged to the friend.
“Just take your stuff and get moving. Don’t start trouble. It won’t end well. Clean up your act and she’ll accept you back home. Keep fucking around and your life won’t ever be the same,” I said softly.
He sneered at me. “What would you know about hardship? You’ve had a cake fucking life compared to me. I witnessed my own brothers and sister get shot. My mother. Then my father turned it on himself. Oh, and that was after he shot me. What could you possibly have happen to you that is worse than that?”
I tilted my head, wondering if I wanted to open that particular can of worms, but I decided that probably would be the best for this situation. Maybe if he knew he wasn’t the only one, he’d see his life really wasn’t that bad.
“When I was eighteen, I watched my baby sister get nearly raped by a man that was supposed to be one of my best friends. When I was twenty and I was deployed, my best friend was killed in front of my eyes. His head exploded when a rifle bullet penetrated his brain. Bits of his brain and bone splattered onto my face and into my mouth. Pieces of his skull lodged into my skin on my back when I ducked, and I have scars that look like shrapnel wounds on my back from it.” I took a deep breath and continued. “When I was twenty one, the woman I’d fallen in love with was shot, and her family was tortured. I never even knew if she was all right until nearly six months later. Then when I was deployed shortly after that, I had a reckless streak a mile wide. More of my best friends died trying to save me when I was captured and tortured. I’d been held in captivity for nearly a month. Then I watched as the same thing was done to them because they thought to save me when it was my fault I’d gotten there to begin with.”
He was silent as I spoke, but his eyes told me I was striking some well-placed blows.
“I got out of the Navy after that, but since then, I’ve lost a total of twenty other people. All of which I watched. Bank robberies. Hold ups at the gas station. A woman and her child being held at gun point because the father came home from Iraq not quite right in the head. Let me tell you something, son. Just a few weeks ago I shot a pregnant woman and killed her. You don’t know me. So how about you stop giving off the woe-is-me act and start making something of yourself, huh?”
With that, I started jogging again, knowing for certain he wouldn’t be going up that driveway.
I’d given him something for his youthful brain to chew on, and he would.
God only hoped that he made the right decision, because there were times where I don’t feel like I did.
I didn’t deserve Georgia. Not one fucking bit.
Chapter 15
All I care about is cake…and maybe like 4 people.
-Coffee cup
Georgia
I knew I’d made a mistake the minute I’d woken up the next morning.
The second I realized it, I called Nico, but he didn’t answer.
The text messages started out simple and to the point, but ended up being truly sweet and heartfelt as the night went on. Which made me feel even worse for how I’d acted last night.
Nico (7:57 p.m.) - I’m sorry.
Nico (8:35 p.m.) - Please talk to me.
Nico (9:01 p.m.) - There was nothing else I could do. I swear I didn’t want to do it.
Nico (9:42 p.m.) – I knew you’d be mine from the moment I first saw you. You were wearing a white cotton shirt that showed off a hint of your tanned belly. You had really tight jeans on that were so threadbare that I was sure any second you’d bend over and they’d disintegrate from around your ass. I fell in love with your smile first.
Nico (10:11 p.m.) - I fell in love with your voice second. So soft, sweet, and husky. You were talking to my pop about what you did in the mornings. I fell in love when you said you hated getting up early, but the ‘smell of cow shit in the morning really had a way of waking a person up.’ I still remember the look on my father’s face when you said that, and to this day I’ll forever thank you for that memory.
Nico (10:31 p.m.) – I fell in love with you over and over the last eight years. You may not have come out to speak with me directly, but knowing you were there to see me off really made the difference in my attitude throughout my time there. The first time I shot a man, it was you whispering in my ear that everything would be okay.
Nico (11:15 p.m.) – Sweet dreams, niña. I love you.
He said I love you. Oh, my God.
That’d been something I’d been yearning to hear for what felt like a lifetime.
And he’d said it in a text message while I was ignoring him.
It wasn’t the flowers and hearts edition that I’d always assumed would happen.