Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 82634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
“Fuck you,” Ralph says when he sits down in front of me, turning to look at me between the seats. “You and that fucking chip you have on your shoulder these past couple of weeks is going to get us in trouble.”
“I don’t know what got you into this frame of mind,” Miller says to me. “But seriously.” I don’t tell him that my life is literally falling apart piece after piece. The only thing I can control right now is what happens on the ice, and I refuse to let go of that last piece. “You need to chill out there. It’s not you against the world.” He looks at Ralph. “You know we’ll have your back no matter what.”
“That depends,” Ralph says from the front, and I laugh at him. There is nothing like having your team stand behind you.
I chuckle. “Hey, we won. Didn’t we?”
Ever since Murielle confronted me in the kitchen, she’s been trying to get me to slip up. She waited for me after the hockey game on Saturday, pretending she found out things when I knew that there was no way she knew anything. I also knew I would not even give her one ounce of information. What is between Evelyn and me was ours. Just ours. Always ours. Only ours. It was the one little thing that gives me the strength to go on, and she isn’t going to take it from me.
“You think I don’t know that is where you went the whole time!” she shouted the minute I closed the door behind me. “You look down your nose at me for fucking Thomas when you had your own whore all along.” I walked away from her, not giving her anything.
“Are you okay?” Miller asks from beside me when the plane takes off. “You’ve been on edge.”
“Shit is happening,” I tell him. “Things that I can’t talk about right now.” I look out the window at the white clouds. “But I’m really fucking hoping this roller-coaster ride I’m on finally stops, and I can get off.”
“You know I’m here for you,” he says. “No matter what it is, I’m on your side.”
“Me, too,” Ralph says. “Whatever you need.”
I nod my head at them, not ready for the storm that is brewing. Nothing could have prepared me for the shit that is waiting for me once the wheels touch down.
I turn my phone on and wait to get my signal. The circle spins around and around for so long that I end up just tucking the phone in my back jeans pocket and get up to disembark. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” I say, walking to my SUV. I check and see that it’s just after lunch, so I make my way home.
Parking my SUV, I see that Murielle is home, which is weird since she is always so busy during the day. I get out, slamming my door, then opening the back door to grab my carry-on bag.
Walking into the house, I smell food cooking. I drop my bag off at the door and make my way to the kitchen. We usually have a chef come in, but he comes on Monday and Friday, never on a Wednesday.
I step into the kitchen and see Murielle in front of the stove. “What is going on?” I ask. She turns around, and I see her face fully done with her hair tied. She is wearing leather pants, and I think about how ridiculous she looks.
“Oh, good, you’re home,” she says, turning off the stove. “Right on time.” Something about her tone makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. “I made your favorite,” she says, draining the pasta. “I called your mother.” She walks to the sink and tosses the pasta in the colander, the hot steam rising in front of her. “She didn’t answer, of course, so I kind of improvised.” I watch as she prepares two plates.
“It smells amazing, doesn’t it?” She ignores the shock on my face. “I forgot how much I like to cook. I really should just do it.” She walks toward the island and places the plates down in front of the stools, and then turns to get forks. “I came back home, and I had so much energy in me.” She stops and looks at me. “So much energy.” She puts down the forks. “Aren’t you going to ask me where I went?”
“I’m not sure I want to know,” I say, almost afraid. The phone in my pocket pings four times. I’m about to get it from my pocket when she says the words that make ice run through my veins and puts the nail in her coffin. “I went to see your whore.” My head snaps up, and my hand tightens on my phone. “Good, that got your attention.”