Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 38978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 195(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 195(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
"Ssh, ssh, it's okay, it's okay, I believe you ssh, come on now."
I thought I was gonna have to sedate her, but she eventually calmed down enough for me to seat her on the bed.
I stood in front of her with arms crossed over my chest. Okay, Maddox, like a motherfucking Band-Aid.
"So what happened?"
She was wringing the fuck out of her hands now, nervous much, Suzette?
"I don't, I...they said..." She couldn't seem to form words.
"They, who's they?"
"Karen...and... Terry."
She said his name as though she was afraid I would snap. She wasn't too far off; hearing his name on her lips made me see fucking red.
"They said you were having a thing with Justine."
"The fuck, who the fuck is Justine?" Was she delusional?
"Justine Deluca, your leading lady from..."
"I know which fucking movie she's from. Are you fucking shitting me? That was two fucking years ago, and I never saw her off set."
"No, no, they had proof; they said they had pictures." Her eyes were darting all over the room.
"They have pictures of me fucking Justine Deluca?" The fuck?
"Well, not exactly, just some compromising shots."
"And you saw these pictures with your own two eyes?" Was I having an out-of-body experience? I have no fucking clue what she was talking about.
"A few yes, I couldn't... Couldn't bear to look at all of them."
"When did they show you these pictures?"
"In the middle of filming."
"And you didn't think to tell me this shit?"
"I didn't know what to do; I didn't want to believe it, please; I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Fuck she was shaking again.
"Calm down, Butterfly."
"Listen, I don't know what pictures they showed you, but the only time I was with Justine was during filming or doing promos. You were there from the second day, remember? When the fuck was I supposed to have fucked her? And why did this just come up after two fucking years?"
"They said you were still seeing her."
"Are you fucking insane? We spend all our time together. WHEN THE FUCK WAS I SEEING HER?"
She looked a little bewildered. Hopefully, she was realizing how fucking stupid she had been. Those fuckers had played her like a fucking banjo. I couldn't wait to fuck those motherfuckers up.
"That still doesn't explain what the fuck you were doing in that fucking car with that piece of shit, though, does it?"
I had to walk away before I did something I would regret. This shit was harder than I thought. I left her crying and went up to my room. I'd had enough for the fucking day.
Who knows what fuckery James was going to show up here with to send me over the edge. I was strung tight as a motherfucker, something's gotta give, or I'm gonna lose my shit. I laid on the covers of my bed, trying to put the pieces together.
Obviously, O’Reilly was part of whatever the fuck was going on, so the who were coming together, I just needed to figure out the whys. It didn't matter why though; whatever the reasoning, I was gonna go Kublai Khan on their motherfucking asses.
CHAPTER 23
Dad found me in my room sometime later; I was lying there tossing Rex's ball in the air, letting my mind relax for a while. There was just too much going on, and I realized I never really stopped to deal with it all. When this fuckery first exploded, my only thought was to get the fuck out, was I running from my problems?
Maybe but in retrospect, I am the fucking laughing stock of the free motherfucking world from here to Timbuktu; I bet those Maasai motherfuckers in Kilimanjaro are probably reading this shit and laughing their fucking tribal asses off. That's what the fuck I had to deal with.
Now that my head was a little clearer, my new reality was settling in, and all it did was piss me the fuck off even more. For the rest of my life, I will be known as that guy, the guy whose young hot starlet girlfriend fucked the old douche, and it didn't matter that I believed her about not fucking him; the world had already judged, and I know about ninety percent of those fuckers believed they fucked. How could I live with this fuckery?
"The Sorensons just left."
I jackknifed so fast I almost gave myself whiplash. My fucking heart started doing that runaway shit again, and I literally rubbed my chest.
"Take it, easy, son, she’s still here, but her father and brothers had to leave. I had a hard time convincing them to leave her here, though, seeing as how we found her in that room bawling her eyes out." Huh, that sounded kind of accusatory to me.
The next punk ass motherfucker that acted like this shit was my fault was gonna get jacked. Just saying.
"Talk to me, son. Did you two get any of this mess straightened out yet?"