Total pages in book: 181
Estimated words: 177690 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 888(@200wpm)___ 711(@250wpm)___ 592(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 177690 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 888(@200wpm)___ 711(@250wpm)___ 592(@300wpm)
He grunts in answer. Doesn’t matter. I’ll take his card if he wants to try and play that game. My Aunt Ida Sue always said there was more than one way to skin a cat, and I have to agree. I never understood why you would want to skin a cat, but whatever.
“Take care of yourself, Faith. You always got a job here if you want it,” he says and that’s sweet. I don’t exactly want to be shaking my ass in a bikini in the cool Colorado air, but still it’s sweet. I lean up on my tiptoes and deposit a kiss on Joe’s weathered jaw. Before I’m firmly back on the balls of my feet, Titan is there with his arm around me. Joe takes him in and seems to be appraising him.
“See you later,” Titan says, making his meaning clear. He wants Joe gone. His arm is so tight around my stomach it’s a wonder I can breathe.
“You really a chick?” Joe asks and I can’t stop the giggle.
“Fuck, no,” Titan growls—which makes me giggle more.
“Didn’t figure. Take care of her,” Joe warns and dang it. I could get misty. I didn’t think Joe liked me much. He’s been nicer the last week, but still, he didn’t talk much.
Titan doesn’t bother replying. He’s too busy pushing me back into his car.
“Bye, Joe!” I yell out the window, waving. Joe nods his head ever so slightly, but that’s it. Then he hops in his truck and heads out.
I sit there watching his truck disappear and I got to admit, I’m a little sad about it. I was just getting comfortable in Buck-Stop. Whenever I take to the road again, I decide right then that I’m not stopping until I find another small town. It’s much more peaceful than the bright lights of Vegas.
“Where do you live in this piece of shit town?” Titan asks and I frown.
“You don’t like Buck-Stop?”
“Not a damn thing about it,” he confirms and that makes me sad.
“Why?”
“Besides the obvious? There’s nothing here.” He shrugs. It’s then I really look at Titan. He’s wearing dress slacks, dark gray and perfectly creased. He’s got a soft, deep purple button-up shirt on and the first few buttons are undone, letting you see his beautiful dark chest. He has on a gold chain. I’ve never liked that before, but on Titan it looks really good. He’s got on his wedding ring—which surprises me, but then I’m wearing mine too. He’s also got on one other heavy gold ring. It has a football on the side of it. He’s driving a Cadillac and he practically oozes money. Every man I’ve ever met like Titan has been bad news. Even if Titan is not, the differences between us are glaring. He oozes money. I struggle to buy dinner most days. He oozes city life and here I am perfectly happy in Buck-Stop and kind of wishing I didn’t have to leave it.
“We could never be truly married,” I tell him and I can’t help it if my words sound kind of sad. I am sad.
“We are married, wife. Now where are you staying?”
“Truck stop down the road, why?”
“You’re staying at a truck stop?” he growls.
“There’s rooms for rent behind it for the night. It’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be,” I grumble self-consciously. The truth is it’s probably worse, but I’m not about to admit that.
“Give me directions.”
I frown, but decide to go ahead. If I don’t he’s stubborn enough to drive around until I do. I’ve got to start figuring out how I’m going to get away from Titan. I can’t stay with him. We’re just too wrong for one another and I know how that works out. I’ve been there, done that and most definitely bought the T-shirt.
That’s never going to happen again.
I touch my face gently as the past wars with my future. I need to leave Titan far behind me.
The farther the better.
fourteen
titan
“You’re right, Faith. This place is not as bad as I was thinking,” I mutter, rubbing the side of my face as I take it all in. The door to her tiny room is practically pressed wood. It’s been wet and not treated, so pieces of it have fallen off. I’m surprised it’s even hanging on the hinges. An eighty-year-old grandmother could kick down this damn door. The inside is worse. There’s paneled walls that look like something from an old seventies movie. There’s a television on a table that is probably that old too. It’s got dials on it, no remote control for that damn thing—not that it matters if the rabbit-ear antenna on the back is anything to judge by. The whole damn place smells stale and like the carpets have been flooded. The carpet is shit-brown, and when I say that it wouldn’t surprise me if it was colored with actual shit. The bed… Fuck… it’s a damn water bed. There’s a mirror on the damn ceiling. The door to the bathroom is missing and you can see the dingy yellow toilet and a shower… I think it’s supposed to match, but it looks more brown.