Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
“I used to bake with my mom. It was our thing on Sundays.” She shrugs her shoulders, and I figure that’s all I’ll get out of her, but I’m unprepared for the emotional dumping that continues. “That was before she met her now husband, before things changed. Gone was the mom who worked six days a week yet somehow managed to be there for every fair, dance, and award ceremony. One day, she came home, announced that she met a man, and they were getting married. I’d never met the guy or knew she was dating. That goes to show you just how sneaky we as human beings can be.” She takes a deep breath. “We moved, uprooted from our small apartment into a monstrosity of a house, bigger than your penthouse and some of the other places I’ve cleaned. The first year was okay. I kept to myself, got phenomenal grades, worked at a grocery store. Anything to stay out of the McMansion. It wasn’t until Charles started making weird comments, talking about how he had a few colleagues who wouldn’t mind a pretty little thing like me. I was done, he yelled, I packed my bags and grabbed what cash I had, which wasn’t a lot since I was an eighteen-year-old girl still in high school for a few more months.” She closes her eyes. One lone tear slides down her cheek. My thumb catches it. I hate that she’s hurting. I’m seething inside for the man who made her feel like she had no other choice but to leave. And her mom… Who the fuck would put their flesh and blood in a situation like this?
“Fairy, Jesus Christ.” My forehead meets hers. Her green eyes are filled with hurt, and I’m ready to slay another motherfucker.
“It’s okay. I got out. My mom, she ran after me. I begged her to come with me, but she wouldn’t, and while that sucked, Mom did what she could. She gave me a wad of cash and her love.” She faceplants into my chest. Both of my arms wrap around her as she cries quietly. I don’t say anything. Right now, she doesn’t need words. I have a feeling Danica never let herself feel or speak of what happened all those years ago. I’d also bet there’s way more to the story than she’s telling me, but I’m not going to push. One thing about Danica is that she holds it in, not saying a word until she’s damn good and ready.
“Come here, fairy.” I pick her up until I’ve got her where I want her—ass in my lap, her arms looped around my neck, and her nose in the crook of my neck.
“He was hurting her, Theo. There were bruises, and she was staying to protect me. I didn’t know it then, but I do now. Why else would she say she couldn’t come with me?” she mutters into my skin. My hand slides beneath her shirt, where I rub her back up and down as my other gently combs through her hair, trying to soothe her.
“Have you seen her since that night?” I ask, prodding. It isn’t the time or the place, but that doesn’t mean shit. Not when I can fix this for her. Between Sylvester and Four Brothers, it won’t take much.
“No, I’ve been too scared to. I know she’s alive and have seen her from a distance, but other than that, no.” She lifts off my chest and cleans up the tears she shed with the backs of her hands, a weak smile in place. “I’m sorry about breaking down on you. Wow, it’s been a long time since I have let myself think about my mom. There was never enough time, and I knew if I did, I’d have a hard time recovering by myself.”
“You’re not on your own anymore, and you never have to apologize to me, not ever, Danica. I’m here, always. I’m assuming this stepdad is the reason why you hated me at first glance?” I rub my hand up and down her back, scratching it every two or three passes.
“You’re right, which wasn’t and isn’t fair to you. I shouldn’t have lumped you in with the likes of Charles Trust.” The breath she lets out is one of relief. “I’m sorry.”
“What did you say?” I ask, making sure I heard her correctly even though my ears have never deceived me.
“I’m sorry. I know those words are hard to imagine coming from me,” she laughs it off.
“Not that. Did you say Charles Trust? The wealthy grandson to EverTrust Banking?”
“Yep, that would be him.” It takes a lot to lock my shit down. My molars are going to be ground down to shit from trying to maintain a semblance of normalcy. “Why? What’s wrong? Theo, I swear to God, if you do something stupid to take you away from me, prison won’t be enough.” I chuckle, hating like hell I’m about to make a phone call and ruin our quiet night at home.