Made For Me (Made For #1) Read Online Natasha Madison

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Erotic, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Made For Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 85342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
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Having all the balls in the world to tell them what was going on with her, and then looking at the two of them not saying anything, I wanted to jump up and ask them what the fuck was going on. Why were they sitting here so calm and not burning down the house? Why the fuck was no one telling her it was going to be okay? Why the fuck wasn’t my father trampling over her to get the papers? I had no idea what was going on and I hated every single second. I should have counted to ten before I turned my wrath on them, I should have done a lot of things, but I didn’t. I’m my father’s son after all, so I was ready to go to war with the only two people I thought would help her, yet let her leave. By. Herself. I should kick my own fucking ass for not going after her and leaving her all alone.

I whip my head around to my father and Max. “What the hell are you two doing?” I shout. “Are you just going to sit there and do nothing?” I look at both of them. Max sits at the edge of the couch while my father leans back on it, just staring at me. “You’re going to let her call a union lawyer?” I can’t help but lift my arms, putting my hands behind my head and crossing them. The silence is almost deafening, which makes me even angrier, so I word vomit. “You.” I look at Uncle Max, who now sits back on the couch mimicking my father’s stance. “You’ve always said that she’s like a daughter to you.” My stomach gets tight, the feeling going up my chest and toward my throat. My feet feel as if I’m wearing cement boots and I’m stuck at this spot. “You’re just going to let her hang out to dry? They are suing her for ten million dollars. I don’t know how much she makes a year, but I’m guessing she doesn’t have ten million dollars saved up.” I put my hands on my hips, the nervous energy coming through me like never before. I look around the room, my eyes going to the glass of whiskey she poured herself and then didn’t drink it. The urge to pick up the tumbler and toss it across the room makes my hands tingle. “I can’t believe this.”

“I know what I’m going to do,” my uncle Max says, his voice calm as he puts his elbow on the arm of the couch and leans his face on his fist. “But the question is, what are you going to do about it?” His eyes stare right into mine, neither of us looking away during the stare down.

I look at him, confused at his question. “What does that even mean?” I ask him. “Is this a code thing that only the two of you understand?” They’ve been each other’s sidekicks for as long as anyone can remember. When my uncle Evan came into the picture, he gave them the nickname M&M. They say they don’t depend on each other, but if my father is somewhere, Max is very close by and vice versa.

“I know what that means.” My father gets up off the couch and then stands looking at Max. “Do I need to be here for the next part?”

“No.” Max shakes his head, making my father nod his as he looks at me. He smirks at me right before he walks down the hall toward the bedroom. The only thing going through my head at this moment is, what the fuck is going on? I put my hands on the top of my head, speechless and feeling so helpless that I don’t know what else to do. I want to yell at my father’s retreating back to help me, but all the words stay jumbled inside my throat.

I sit back on the couch, as if someone cut me off at the knees, my eyes never leaving the hallway where my father just disappeared to. “What’s the story with you and Julia?” Max asks and I blink a couple of times before I turn to look at him.

“There is no story.” I say the words and they taste like acid in my mouth. Everything inside me gets even tighter. As if you would take a wet towel and try to wring all the water out, that is exactly how it feels. There is no story, the words replay in my head, making me wonder when it fucking changed. There is a story, my head screams, we just don’t know it yet.

“If there is no story.” He sits forward now, his voice never going high, never going low. Staying steady and tight. “Then you should keep in your own lane.”


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