Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 143842 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 719(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 479(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 143842 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 719(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 479(@300wpm)
I stood from the booth, dug into my wallet, and tossed two twenties on the table to cover the bill, then I pushed out through the single door and into the heat of the summer night.
The deepest gray curled through the vastless canopy above, and a smattering of stars had started to dot the sky.
I shoved my hands into my pockets as I followed the walkway around the side of the bar to the parking lot. My truck was on the far end, facing the building. The drone of cars up on Manchester echoed through the heavy air, though this area was pretty serene.
Through the stillness, I edged that way, rounding to the driver’s side as I clicked the locks.
The running lights flashed, and I reached out to pull open the door.
That was when the serenity disintegrated.
Awareness prickled the fine hairs at the back of my neck and the energy shifted to ominous.
A flash of depravity.
I didn’t have time to turn around to find where it was coming from before pain splintered across the side of my head.
Searing, splitting misery nearly knocked me from my feet.
I struggled to remain upright as glass shattered and rained around me.
Agony spiraled, and I blinked and fought for the air that I couldn’t seem to bring into my lungs. Everything felt like it was caving.
A crushing kind of affliction that fought to wipe me out.
The only thing that kept me standing was the fury that burst in my consciousness. Jumping right into my bloodstream and careening through my veins.
Inciting a riot that whirled me around to face the pussy who’d attacked me from behind.
The second I did, a fist pummeled me in the gut. So hard the last of the air ripped out of me on a rasp. I roared, squinting as I tried to focus through the blur that clouded my eyes.
Dizziness spun through my brain and made it impossible to process sight.
Or maybe it was the hot streams of blood that I realized were pouring down my face from the wound at the side of my head that kept me from seeing straight.
Blinking through the disorder, I staggered forward, and I threw a fist at the vague figure that lurked in the encroaching darkness. The silhouette stepped back, out of my reach, and I was unprepared for the next blow that seemed to come from out of nowhere.
A fist that slammed me up high on my cheek.
Pain blistered out, all of it too much, and I fell to my knees.
My head dropped between my shoulders as I rasped, “Motherfucker…you’re going to regret that.”
A low, menacing laugh rolled through the air, and I could feel the presence cover me from above. I tried to lift my head to it, to confirm the attacker because the hatred that toiled inside promised I knew exactly who it was.
But the pain kept me on my knees.
The dizziness.
The onslaught too much.
“I’m afraid you’re wrong.” The scum leaned in closer, spewing venom near my ear. “It’s you who’s going to be filled with regret. You get one chance. If I were you? I’d run.”
THIRTY-TWO
HAILEY
I peeked at my phone for what had to have been the fifteenth time since Cody had said he’d be back by nine.
This was exactly what I got, wasn’t it? Giving in the way I had?
A needy obsession that left me antsy and in a toil of nerves. Wondering where he was. If he was okay. If I’d been a fool and believed something in him that I shouldn’t have when there’d been so much proof that he wasn’t the type of guy who was going to stick around.
I deserved it, didn’t I? Deserved it for casting the type of betrayal I had last night. The same as I’d done last Saturday when I’d begged him to touch me. The one thing I’d sworn I’d never do.
But it felt like he would.
Stick.
Become a piece of the molding.
A brick that perfectly fit even when I wasn’t supposed to allow him to.
I tried to act as if I wasn’t a deranged mess where I lounged on the couch watching an old episode of The Voice with Lolly.
She had her own unhealthy obsession with Blake Shelton.
“Look at that man.” She tsked like it was a shame. “If I were only forty years younger…I looked just as good as that Gwen back in the day. And I sure can sing, too.”
I held back a chuckle. “I’m sure you would have gotten on that stage and completely stolen the show.”
I took another furtive peek at my phone, frowning when the last text I’d sent him remained unread.
Me
You okay?
“Don’t pretend like I don’t know you keep looking at that thing on your lap or that I don’t feel that you’re tied up in stitches.”
My head jerked upright to find Lolly peering at me from her side of the couch, her expression knowing.