Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 76243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
He looks at me, something coming over his face that I can’t name and if I wasn’t so upset, I might worry about it, or at least take time to try and decipher it.
“Red—”
“I mean, look at me!”
“Red—”
“I’m not a little kid anymore. I’ve been taking care of myself for a while now. I know I’ve made some big mistakes, but damn it, I survived, and I got smart—”
Before I can finish the word smarter, Luke’s fingers press against my lips so that it comes out muffled.
“Baby, I need you to calm down for a minute. Can you do that?”
He looks so serious that my heart drums against my chest and I know a second of fear, afraid something is more wrong than just the fact that my family did something. I nod slowly. He takes his hand away.
“I don’t know what’s wrong, Luke, but whatever it is, as long as we’re in this together, the rest will just be bullshit that we will overcome,” I tell him, needing him to believe that, while silently plotting a way to knock some sense into my family.
“Did you mean it?” he asks. I don’t know what I expected him to say, but that wasn’t it. I just keep staring at him, waiting for him to explain. “Did you mean it?” he questions again.
“Luke…”
“Well?” he prompts, sounding impatient.
“Well what?” I ask, thoroughly confused.
His brow furrows, his deep brown eyes becoming cloudy with emotion and what I think just might be a mixture of impatience. I just have no idea why.
“You just said our daughter was asleep in the back,” he says. My gaze goes to the back seat to see Daisy asleep in her car seat.
“She’s asleep,” I respond, not understanding at all what he’s getting at.
“Baby, you called her ours.”
It hits me, and this sick feeling floods me, like a thick heat washing over my body.
“I…uh…”
“Did you mean it?”
“Luke, I didn’t mean to overstep. I mean, I know she’s your daughter.”
“That’s not what I’m asking, Jasmine. Do you think of Daisy as yours?”
I swallow. I wasn’t thinking when I blurted that out. I have no idea how he feels about my slip. His face is giving nothing away. The instinct is to backtrack, but that wouldn’t be truthful. I decide the best thing to do would be to lay my cards down on the table.
“I love her, Luke. I mean, I guess I shouldn’t, but I kind of think of her as part of…”
“Part of?” Luke prompts, when I stop talking. I was hoping he’d let it go, because I am feeling exposed…
“Family… part of this family we’re building. That is what we’re doing, right? I thought that’s what you wanted, Luke. You couldn’t expect me not to get attached to Daisy. She’s sweet and funny. She…” I let out a heavy breath. “I love her.”
“You’ve claimed her.”
“Luke—”
“You claimed her, like I claimed you,” he says.
“Is that…bad?” I ask, wanting to understand. There’s this small hope blooming in my chest, because he doesn’t sound upset. He sounds…happy.
“We’re getting married,” Luke growls.
“I…wait… What?”
“We’re getting married, Jasmine. I don’t want no bitching about it. We’re getting married and you’re adopting Daisy so that she knows she’s as much yours as mine. I want my girl secure before we have more children.”
“Uh…”
“You can’t back out now, Red.”
“I’m not trying to back out,” I snap.
“Then, what’s the problem?”
“Nothing, it’s just that I think you’re supposed to ask me to marry you, Luke—not demand it.”
“I can ask, but you’re going to marry me regardless,” he responds and I roll my eyes, because he’s right. I’m about to give him hell about it anyway, when a siren and lights flash behind us, grabbing my attention. A cop car pulls in behind us, breaking the moment. Luke curses under his breath. I figure the cop is just being nice to check and see if we’re stranded. I don’t mind, although it is bad timing. Hopefully he’ll leave soon, and Luke and I can revisit this conversation. I’m even jumping ahead in my mind, wondering how Luke would feel about us getting married at our new house.
All good thoughts flee however, once the cop gets out of the car behind us and I see who it is.
Dewayne.
44
Grunt
“What’s going on here?” Dewayne Lagger says, strutting over to my truck as if he’s the big man on campus. He’s got blondish-brown hair and has some muscles. For the swagger he tries to carry, the piss-ant definitely needs more. He’s got dark sunglasses on and doesn’t bother to take them off, as he comes to a stop across from me.
Jesus, Jasmine was so much better than this dick. She deserves better than me too, but this guy is ridiculous. He’s definitely watched too many Hollywood movies and tried to emulate the cops he’s seen on the screen. It’s almost laughable—except there’s nothing funny that this fucker is here trying to cause shit.