Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 69356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Which pissed me off because she even played acting surprised poorly. She wasn’t surprised in the least. Even worse, she wasn’t ‘surprised’ because she honestly thought I wasn’t able to get a date to the wedding… or ever.
She thought I was incapable of attracting a man. Something that I’d heard her say before to my dad when I’d been over for dinner once.
I gritted my teeth. “I’m having car trouble, Melody,” I said. “I can barely hear you due to all the cars passing by. I’m on the side of a busy highway and I seriously don’t have time to talk about the date that I’m bringing to the wedding.”
“So you are bringing a date.” She heard what she wanted to hear. “Make sure that he’s presentable. Don’t be bringing a man to a black-tie affair that’s never even worn a tie before, let alone a three-piece suit. And, for God’s sake, don’t rent an escort because you’re lying to me about actually having a date.”
At this point, just to shut her the fuck up, I’d even be willing to deal with Bruno if that was what it took.
I would be bringing a man to the wedding with me, and honestly, Bruno might be the perfect fit.
He’d be brash, wouldn’t give a fuck who he offended, and I could count on him not to talk to me all night and piss me off.
It sounded like a win-win situation.
“So, he said he got your call, but he was recording your sister doing the high jump and ignored it,” Melody said once she came back on the line. “He said he won’t be able to leave to come help you.”
Not he can’t. He won’t.
“But, he said he’d call you. So, bye.”
My stepmother hung up just as my father’s face filled the screen.
I wanted to punch him in the throat.
“I can’t be there for another hour at least,” my father started without preamble. “There’s about forty minutes or so until your sister’s next race. Then I have to run and take your stepmother some food. And then I can be there to pick you up.”
In turn, knowing I was on the side of a major highway, broken down and likely in danger, he would choose to stay at the meet where he could come pick me up and get back before her heat. Then he’d choose to take my stepmother fucking food before coming to get me.
Yes, it was painfully obvious sometimes where I ranked in my father’s eyes.
“Don’t fucking worry about it,” I croaked. “I’ll call a tow truck.”
“Well, don’t tow it to my shop. I won’t be there until Monday afternoon,” my father said as he ignored my language. “I don’t want anyone trying to break into my shop because your car is sitting out front.”
I looked at my car.
Yeah, I wouldn’t be towing it to his shop.
I’d be towing it to the dump.
Then I’d go buy a new one.
Because this was the last fucking time I was calling him.
The very, very last.
But I couldn’t stop the curiosity at wanting to know why my father, who was anal to the extreme about when he got to the shop, wasn’t going to be there on time.
“Uhh, why?” I asked. “You’re there every Monday at the crack of dawn. Is something going on?”
Then he ripped my heart out for a second time that day.
“I’m buying your sister a horse. We can’t get her anytime but Monday during the day.”
My father’s words from a few years back hit me like a sledgehammer.
No, you can’t have a horse. You’re not worth that much money.
Pulling my phone away from my ear, I hit the end call button and then went a step further.
I completely deleted my father from my phone.
I was done.
I was done trying to be something I wasn’t.
I was done trying to get the attention of that man when he didn’t want to give me anything, not even a fucking hello.
So. Damn. Done.
Needless to say, when the roar of a bike went from a throaty throb to a dull roar as it slowed down behind me somewhere, I couldn’t even muster enough gumption to lift my damn head.
That was because I was crying.
I couldn’t stop, either.
After so many years of trying to get my father’s love and attention, he’d finally put the last nail in the coffin.
I didn’t even look up when I heard the thud of bootsteps on the asphalt road I was currently standing on.
I did look up, however, when I heard my name rumble out of what I knew to be a sexy mouth.
“Crockett?” Zach asked quietly.
I looked up, startled to hear my name.
I’d assumed it was just some random person stopping to check out my car.
Not him.
My head snapped up and I stared at Zach with dawning horror.
Not only was I dressed like utter shit, but I was also crying, which made my face blotchy and puffy.