Total pages in book: 196
Estimated words: 180438 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 902(@200wpm)___ 722(@250wpm)___ 601(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 180438 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 902(@200wpm)___ 722(@250wpm)___ 601(@300wpm)
She had everything; even now, when she should be broken and desperate, she once again was the one to shine while I was stuck here in this piece of shit house with nothing to my name. He couldn’t even give me that.
I’d come to accept that the divorce was real; I had no choice once I realized how he’d tricked me into signing those papers that day. That MengeLiNi person had said that he’d put everything in Elena’s name years ago and had shown proof.
Why had he done that? From the documents she’d sent, it had happened while we were together, within the first year. That meant that he’d distrusted me even then. All the times I’d been trying and hoping, he’d already checked out.
I let the tears fall without fighting them back this time because if I couldn’t feel sorry for myself, who the hell would? I’d really and truly lost this game and had nothing to come back with. It wasn’t even that I hadn’t planned for any and all contingencies; I had. I had money stashed away just in case; I’d started once it became obvious that Ryder was never going to love me the way I wanted.
Even though I knew that keeping him drugged and under my control could last a lifetime, I hadn’t wanted to take any chances, plus I was never too comfortable with the people around him that could change my life in one second if they chose to. So I had been squirreling away money here and there over the years that had grown into a pretty decent nest egg.
But it was all gone now, thanks to that MengeLiNi bitch, and I still don’t understand how she even knew about the money or where to find it. The doorbell rang, making me almost jump out of my skin, and I crept toward the peephole to see who was out there, terrified that whoever had murdered Mary and Scott had found my hiding place.
My feet felt like they were laden with lead with each step I took, and it was hard being quiet as much as I was shaking, but I made myself go to the door instead of sitting there like a sitting duck.
There was no one there, but a small box had been left on the top step. Maybe it was a delivery for my dad from someone who didn’t know that he’d lost the house. That’s another thing, with all the money he’d begged from Ryder to pay off the mortgage, how had he lost the house anyway in the end?
What had he done with the millions of dollars Ryder had given him over the years? I looked around and didn’t see anyone. I picked up the package and saw my name. How did someone know I was here? I slammed the door and ran back to the room, sitting with my back to the corner, out of sight of the window from anyone looking in.
The box fell from my hand twice before I was able to get it open. I was surprised at what I found there, pills. I looked for the name of the sender and found none. I know I shouldn’t, but I need something, anything, to take me away from this hell for a while.
I swallowed three of them, not even caring what they were at this point. It wasn’t long before I felt the effects, and I was relieved to see that there was no harm done. In fact, I felt more at peace than I had in days. There was a feeling of lightness, and all the worries of the last hour just seemed to disappear.
I smiled as my eyes began to drift closed, and a shadow crossed the wall.
Chapter 82
*Ryder*
The phone rang just as I came out of the shower. I’d been in there for much longer than was necessary, thinking about the way my life had changed so drastically in only a few short weeks. It seems impossible, and I still find myself having these moments where I want to pinch myself to make sure that it’s real.
In that space of time, I’d gone from wishing for death to wanting to live more than anything. From living in the worst kind of hell imaginable to being the happiest I’ve ever been in my existence. The only thing plaguing me now was how easy it had been for me to lose everything the last time and worrying about how not to let it happen again.
I doubt I’d be such an ass twice, but I hadn’t expected things to go south the last time either, and that’s what’s worrying the hell out of me. How blind I was to the people and situations around me. Drugs had played a part in it, sure, but I won’t use that as an excuse for the mess I’d made of our lives.