Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 145729 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145729 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Molly widened her eyes in a shocked, what-are-you-doing stare. Bastien nodded. “I won’t forget. She’ll be safe. I’m following you home, Molly, so don’t speed.”
“I never speed. That’s Sonia.”
Sonia shrugged. “Seriously? No one is ever on these roads. I don’t speed in town.”
“It’s still breaking the law, Sonia,” he said.
She rolled her eyes at him. “It’s a stupid law when no one is on the road but me.”
“It’s designed to keep you safe.”
She didn’t like safe. She liked dangerous. She wanted safe, it was more comfortable, and now that she was out of danger, she thought it was exactly what she wanted. Then she met Joshua Tregre, and safe wasn’t nearly as important as she’d thought it was. She ran both hands through her hair. She was messed up. Seriously screwed up. After the things that had happened to her, why would she even consider a relationship with Joshua? After the information Bastien had imparted to her, she should be packing. Running again. Instead, she stood on her porch and waved to Molly and Bastien. Once their taillights had faded away, she still stood there, listening to the sounds of the swamp.
Those crooning insects made up a lullaby just for her. The frogs chimed in for the chorus and continued to belt out a frenzied call and answer, while the swamp cicadas provided the endless melody. She loved the night sounds in the swamp. Loved them. Sometimes she lay in her bed with the window open, and other times she couldn’t resist sitting outside on her balcony falling asleep to the music.
She wrapped her arms around her middle and rocked for a moment, trying to stop her body from burning. If her brain would stop thinking about Joshua, she would have a chance to figure out the intelligent thing to do and then actually follow through. Unfortunately, Joshua had set up a terrible addiction in her. The moment her company had disappeared, her body began to coil tightly, pressure building, her desire becoming a need.
Sex was temporary. It would burn out, and then she’d be left with a bossy dictator who probably would run around on her. And that was if he stayed – which he wouldn’t. Men like him didn’t stay. She was in for serious heartbreak if she was stupid enough to try to have an actual relationship with him.
She sighed and went back into the house. As she walked, she pulled out her phone and stared down at it. She didn’t text him. She had to believe she was disciplined enough to go another night without him. It had been bad enough that she’d met him every night in the swamp because she hadn’t been able to stay away, but she could blame Gatita’s heat. She didn’t have that excuse now. If she texted him to come, it would be on her. She would know she was too weak to resist him, and if he was a criminal, if he in any way was mixed up in mobster-type behavior, she was as good as dead.
She took a long, cool shower and pulled on a pair of red stretch boy shorts. They were a favorite because they were so comfortable. The lace stretched over her hips and made her feel feminine, even when she was working with hammers or a nail gun. She especially liked to sleep in them on hot nights. The matching camisole clung to her full breasts, but surprisingly gave more support than she thought it would, making it a favorite to sleep in as well. She knew better than to go barefoot, so she slipped on thin ballet slippers and went out to the back verandah to add soft easy music to that of the swamp.
It sometimes took hours for her long, thick hair to dry if she washed it at night. She played her favorite songs and let the breeze play through the wet strands. The chair she liked best was an egg-shaped swing suspended from the ceiling by a chain. She curled up in it and rocked gently while her fingers idly turned her cell phone end over end. It was going to be a very long night.
You’re sad.
She was. Very sad. Not like when her mother died and she’d been so lost. It had been the two of them for so long. Her beautiful mother, who had cleaned houses for a very wealthy Russian family after her husband had died. “Murdered, Gatita,” she murmured aloud. She lied so much about her father dying in an accident that she needed to hear the word.
“Papi was murdered.”
I know. I am so sorry. We are safe here.
“They made me believe they were our friends. Mami worked for them, and she knew. All that time, she knew they murdered her husband. Can you imagine how awful that must have been for her? That night, when I found out my own husband was going to murder me, I also found out his father, Nikita, that man I thought loved us, forced her to sleep with him. I overheard him talking to Sasha. He said it was stupid to fall in love with me. In the end, he would have to kill me and it just made it harder if he loved me. Sasha agreed with him.” Sasha, her husband. The man she’d trusted. The only human being she’d had left in the world.