Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 155798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 779(@200wpm)___ 623(@250wpm)___ 519(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 779(@200wpm)___ 623(@250wpm)___ 519(@300wpm)
“Do you want some water?”
I nodded, holding on as another round came up my throat.
He returned, setting the glass on the counter. He smoothed back my hair and sat behind me, his body blanketing mine. His head rested beside mine, a hand running over my hair and back before sweeping up for another circle. I lost count of how many times he repeated this motion until my stomach stopped seizing.
He reached for my water, handing it to me.
I sank backwards against him, taking the glass and my first sip. Then I waited. It felt good going down my throat, refreshing. When my stomach didn’t clench up, I took another sip, and another.
But mostly I just sat there in his arms until I lost track of time.
His phone rang in the other room.
Neither of us mentioned it until he cursed and hit the door, shutting it, muting the sound a little.
“I can take a day off—”
I shook my head. “No. You’ll get fined.”
“Then I’ll get fined.”
“You’re not taking a day off.”
“Billie…” His arms flexed. He was about to launch into an argument.
“No.” I was so tired, so weak. “No. I’m going to the farm. I want to be with Vicky and Howard. I want to hold Miss Sylvia Rivera.”
There was exhaustion in my voice but also resolve.
Brett heard it and didn’t fight. His chest seemed to deflate behind me. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. That call was leaked on purpose. He’s trying to tell the copier not to move on me, but it won’t work. He’ll be even more determined now. I’m going to spend time with the people who love me. I’ll be there when you’re done.” I turned to look at him but quickly moved away, conscious of what my breath must smell like. I leaned forward, hanging my head between my knees.
Brett continued rubbing my back.
“We’ll sleep there tonight.”
I didn’t argue because as the nausea shifted aside, a new burn took its place. A scalding burn. Anger.
The Midwest Butcher. This new guy. Everyone else.
They wanted to break me? Well, fuck them.
No one was going to break me.
45
BRETT
I was leaving the stadium when I saw the detective in the lobby area.
“This is where they put the ‘unwanted’ visitors. You’re not wanted. How’s that feel, Detective Dickhead?”
He tensed, catching the extra meaning behind my words, before rolling his eyes. “Such a class act, Broudou. Like always.”
“That’s me. So classy and sophisticated, I’ve been to the White House three times.”
He shook his head, some of his real anger flaring for a moment before he concealed it. “Does she know your past? Your real past? Does she know about your brother?”
This went serious real quick. I took one step toward him, knowing he’d feel the implied threat from it. “It was one of the first things she found out about me.” I waited, seeing some of his anger slip out again. “Let’s be clear here, Billie may not know every single bad thing I’ve done in my past, but she knows I have a past. She knows that if football hadn’t come into my life, I might’ve ended up in a cell next to my brother. And guess what?” I flashed him a hard smile, a cruel one. “I still get to make her scream on my dick, every fucking night.”
All the pretense vanished between us. He might’ve been here for his job, or some other reason, but he still wanted what was mine and he couldn’t have her.
Because she was mine.
I raised an eyebrow. “I got the girl, Dickhead. When are you going to accept that?”
He scowled. I could see all the loathing, the disdain. It didn’t matter what I did for a living, how much money I had, I was beneath him.
I almost laughed. “You just see me one way, don’t you?”
“Yes,” he lashed out. His nostrils flared. “I don’t give two fucks what you’ve done with your life. You were a criminal growing up. It was in how you were raised. You were born to be a criminal and that part of you is so far deep in you, that’ll never come out. You might be legal now, but you are still and will always be a criminal. She deserves better than you.”
I stepped back, finally getting him to show his cards. He didn’t say anything that wasn’t true and in a way, I respected that. It was honest.
“We can agree on that, but she’s better than both of us.”
Surprise leapt in his eyes at my words, but they went flat again because I smirked, knowing it looked cruel, wanting it to look as cruel as possible. My tone taunted because by now, it was a conditioned response to this asshole. “Still doesn’t change a goddamn thing because again, I got the girl.”
He bit back whatever he wanted to say, and it took considerable effort. He grated out, “I didn’t come here for this pissing match. I came to find out how she’s doing. How is she?”