Total pages in book: 190
Estimated words: 185785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 929(@200wpm)___ 743(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 185785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 929(@200wpm)___ 743(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
“Tonight, six o’clock, you’re having dinner with me. Don’t make other plans.”
She stares blankly and then winces. “Actually, that might not be-”
“I insist,” I cut her off.
“But…”
“It’s best to cooperate when I insist, Dimples,” I say.
She blinks and then swallows. “Okay,” she squeaks and turns the lock, then reaches for the knob.
“Disarm the alarm first,” I tell her, but it’s a split second too late so the siren blares.
I jog over and quickly clear it.
“Sorry.” She looks at me with regret.
Yeah, I’m awake now. So are my neighbors.
Fear flickers in her eyes as she stares at me.
“Tonight,” I remind her.
She leaves.
I sit down on my couch and kiss my teeth. Pissed.
I look at my phone screen. Missed call from Wes Traynor.
I call him.
“Wes.”
“I’m thinking we should consider bugging the old lady’s place,” he says. “I don’t usually suggest things like this because I don’t like fuckin’ with innocent folks, but in this case… he was there again for an hour and a half last night. He’s there now.”
“Now?”
Before eight o’clock in the morning?
“Do it,” I say.
“Gotcha. They always sit at that kitchen table, so I could put one pointing right there and only view it when he’s in there.”
My private eye has ethics. In my experience, that’s a liability in his role – at least when it comes to working for me.
43
Violet
Wednesday is a long, long day for me. I can’t wrap my head around the fact that tomorrow is Ray’s deadline and I’m sick to my stomach about the possibilities.
I’m tempted to swing by the building and check my mail, but I know it’s a terrible idea. I just have to wait another day or two and then all this will be over.
But will it? And to what end?
Killian is angry with me. It’s bad that the family dinner on Sunday was canceled because of my grandfather’s health, but the good thing is that Killian didn’t have an opportunity to spend the day with me and my family, because I have no idea where it would’ve gone. More kissing? More than kissing?
I’m petrified of the chemistry between us. It’s white-hot and isn’t that the hottest type of flame? I’m not sure, but I’m so afraid of the burn.
I’m afraid of jumping too soon. Getting my heart broken. Being unfair to someone else by getting into something I’m not ready for.
The past three weeks have been incredibly eye-opening for me. Distance from Ray has bolstered my strength. A lot. But I have a long way to go.
Talking to my mom twice daily on the phone to get updates on Grampa has helped, too. This has brought me back into the family fold where I worried it would be difficult to regain that closeness with them after being so distant for so long.
I text or group-chat with Mom, my aunt, and my two cousins. And it’s gone off the Grampa topic and is just a nice, ongoing conversation with them. This has helped me feel more like me.
Going to lunch with friends from work, having that girls’ night out, spending time with and having Susanna in my life again. All of it has been amazing.
Not worrying about money so much. Not feeling that horrible sinking feeling, heading home every night to Ray and his garbage.
And it’s all down to Killian sending Ray off to Atlantic City because that was the start. That was the beginning. That week alone helped me begin to find my way back toward who I was before. Someone with friends. With a relationship with her family. Someone that smiled, laughed, looked forward instead of trying to simply blend in.
Someone who decided enough was enough and that it was time to take my life back.
Bottom line: the fact that Ray fucked up royally and that Killian stepped in led to this past two weeks of me getting in touch with myself again.
But while all that has been happening, I’ve also been freaking out because of the insane amount of chemistry between Killian and me.
I can’t stop thinking about him. I dream about him. I can barely look at him without feeling my face heat up, without getting butterflies, without wanting to just… I don’t know… throw myself at him and hope he catches me.
I’ve heard it said that after every long-term relationship ends, you should give yourself at least a full season to heal from it. Maybe even as long as the relationship lasted. I don’t want to spend the next three years alone, necessarily, but I do think it’s probably healthy to have time between relationships. And then there’s that whole thing about having a couple rebounds in between serious relationships. Jumping from three years with Ray, the last year of which was hell for me, to a new relationship that would be with someone so very different? It just doesn’t seem wise.