Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 113837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
She looked up from the comforter and smiled.
“You gotta get out of this thing.” I helped her sit up, slowly pulling her dress over her head. I skimmed my hand along her side. The way I felt with her--like something missing was right there--it was something I couldn’t ignore anymore. “I really do fucking like you.”
“I like you too,” she whispered.
“Good.” I kissed her forehead, then pulled my shirt over my head and tugged it over hers. “Come on,” I laid back on the bed, bringing her down onto my chest.
“Thank you.”
“For what?” I swept my hand through her tangled hair.
“For being nice.”
“Only to you, baby girl. Only to you…”
37
Drew
“Drucella Morgan!”
I jumped awake, then groaned, and face planted my pillow.
“Go away,” I mumbled into the cotton. My head felt like it was in a vice while my stomach churned, threatening to rebel.
“Get the hell out of my house!”
I bolted upright to find my dad standing in the doorway, glaring.
Panic worked its way through me when I glanced over at Bellamy, shirtless, tattooed and with a smirk that said he didn’t give a shit he’d just been caught in my bed in nothing but his boxers.
Mortification was not the word. I was in such deep shit.
I dragged a hand through my bird’s nest hair as I shoved out of the bed, wearing Bellamy’s shirt.
“I come home to find the house ruined. Again. And you with this...this…” My dad gave Bellamy a nasty once over, and I knew exactly what he was thinking--What he saw.
Muscles, tattoos, piercings. Bellamy had bad written all over him.
“This boy,” he spat the word. “In your bed. Drucella, you are out of control!”
“Can you give me five minutes?” I went to the door and tried to push him out into the hall. “Then we’ll talk about it.”
“I didn’t raise you to act like a whore!”
He might as well have slapped me, and I didn’t know what to say. He was rubbing salt in the wound he’d already inflicted by forgetting my birthday.
Dad’s gaze shifted behind me. Bellamy’s hand touched my waist, pulling me back so he could place himself between my father and me.
“You’re a fucking asshole,” he said.
I went to move, but Bellamy held me in place.
“And you, young man, are not welcome in my house. Taking advantage of my daughter…”
Two seconds ago, I was a whore…
“Just a birthday present.” Bellamy laughed, his hand coming back around my waist and tugging me against his side. “Because you see, I didn’t forget it was her birthday.”
I’m sure my face turned twelve shades of red. My dad’s sure did.
“Get out of my house.” My father rubbed at his chest on a heavy breath. “Before I call the police!”
“Sure thing.” Bellamy tugged on his jeans, zipping them as he cupped my cheek. “Get dressed. We’re leaving.”
“You are not leaving with him,” my dad snapped. The anger in his voice caused me to flinch.
I knew exactly who I wanted to be around right now, and it wasn’t the man who forgot about me and called me a whore. Consequences be damned.
I went into my closet, quickly threw on a sundress and a pair of shoes, and came back out before they had a chance to kill each other.
Bellamy took my hand, pulling me toward the door. But my dad didn’t budge.
“You asked me to leave,” Bellamy said, an edge to his voice I’d never heard. He stepped forward, towering over my dad. “You gonna move or what?”
A trace of fear showed on my dad’s face seconds before he backed up. Slightly.
Bellamy knocked his shoulder as he led me into the hall.
We made halfway down the hall before my dad started after us. “Drucella! You are not leaving with that reprobate!”
Bellamy turned to face him, walking backward down the hall. “I know you forgot, but she’s eighteen now. She doesn’t have to do shit you say.” Then he flipped him off just before we started down the stairs.
Nora was right. Bellamy was awful. And I’d never wanted anyone the way I wanted him right now.
He kicked empty bottles out of the way as we headed through the foyer.
“I wanted to punch him.” The door slammed behind us, his anger only growing as he dragged me toward his car. “Fucking asshole.”
He opened the passenger door, then climbed over the console to the driver’s side. “Fucking prick.” Jamming the keys into the ignition, he glared at my house while I climbed in.
I tossed my head back against the headrest. Honestly, I was so tired of fighting my dad every step of the way. Not like I didn’t know I was a nightmare child, but he didn’t give a shit about me, and that rejection by my own father had molded me into something bitter.
“Look at me.” Bellamy grabbed my chin, forcing me to face him. “You’re not a whore.”