Misfits Like Us (Like Us #11) Read Online Krista Ritchie, Becca Ritchie

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors: , Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
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Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 132933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
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Fuck me.

My nose flares. Are we sure it wasn’t green Jell-O? almost comes out of me. But I’m forcing myself not to toss out a lie. Gotta be honest with him. Gotta find a way.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” Lo questions.

I swallow again.

He’s shaking his head, irate and fuming. He stretches his arms up to his head like he’s trying to cool off. “Jesus Christ, why can’t you just say it?”

We kissed.

I kissed your daughter.

He’s right; I can’t say it.

It was something I could die happy knowing I did. It was this pure, explosive moment between Luna and me, and we agreed not to let anyone tarnish it. Even if it’d make her dad trust me more, I fight against letting him have that.

I’m still, nearly motionless. “You have this way…” I say slowly. “Of making me feel trapped, you know that?” My eyes are burning. “I don’t think you realize how much I hate that feeling.”

I expect him to say, maybe I do, and flash a half-smile.

But he doesn’t.

He’s just listening.

I shift my weight. “I’m not perfect. I’m never gonna be the perfect person for Luna—because I’m guessing there isn’t anyone who’d live up to what you’d hope for her, and I know it’ll never be me. That doesn’t mean I don’t care about her, and when you’re asking me to tell you something that might hurt her, I’m honestly gonna hesitate. Because she’s here.” I lift my hand high up in the air. “And you’re here.” I lower my other hand pretty far underneath that palm. “But I’ve been trying to forget her. ‘Cause I know how much she loves you, and I’m not the big bad wolf trying to blow down fathers and daughters. I’m not.”

He’s quiet for the longest moment. He paces left and right, then stops. Eyes the woods, then me. “Why do you think I brought you here?”

I squint around at our audience of trees. To the middle of the woods. Alone. “There was a moment in the car I thought maybe you hired a hitman to kill me. Dump my body in the Delaware.”

His face contorts. “And you still got out of the car and followed me here?”

“You’re Xander’s dad. You’re Luna’s dad,” I say strongly. “I’m not as scared of you as I think you’d want me to be, but I am absolutely fucking terrified of my family.” My chest collapses, and for the first time, Lo’s jaw untightens. “And I didn’t come here to talk to you about Luna.”

He frowns. “You didn’t?”

I scratch the back of my head, my muscles flexing uncomfortably. “I know some things. About what happened in New York last night.”

His eyes flare in realization. “It was your family.”

“Yeah, and I should’ve told someone sooner, but I thought I’d taken care of it.”

“You knew this would happen?” Lo looks murderous. “To Beckett. And you didn’t think to tell Rose or Connor—”

“No, no,” I cut in hotly, stepping forward. “I didn’t know they’d try to hurt him. They wanted me to steal a painting from his bedroom, and I said, no. They never mentioned hurting anybody. My cousin was just threatening to send you a picture of me at his place—”

“You’ve seen your family. This is great. Just amazing, Paul. What’d you do, bake cookies and pass around a pipe?”

Low blows are something I’m used to meeting. But that one, from her dad, hurts like a kick to the gut.

He’s already wincing. Etchings of regret line his forehead.

“Now you’re a piece of shit,” I say plainly. “There you go. Got what you wanted. And just so you know, I don’t fuck with meth. So no, I didn’t go to get high. I went to threaten my cousin, to tell my family to stop messing with all of you.”

“And how’d that work out?” Lo glares.

It kills me. “I honestly wish I could rewind, but I can’t so I’m trying to do what I should’ve done in the first place.”

“Why didn’t you just come to us in the first place?” Lo questions. “Because you thought we’d fire you? Because you care more about your fucking job than you do about my kids.”

I hang my head, breath caught in my lungs again. My eyes sear, and it hurts to even blink. “Because they’re my family, and it felt like my mess to clean—no matter how much I didn’t want to go back, I did. And I’ll keep going back if it helps keep them away from your family.”

“Or you could quit,” he forces out like it’s right there.

The thing he’s always wanted me to do.

“Go fly to Montana,” he continues. “Go forget about us, forget about your family. Go live out west and commune with fucking buffalo. Live happily elsewhere.”

That last word sucks oxygen out of my body.

“In time, everything could be destroyed, and your knowledge and love could be strewn elsewhere.”


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