Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Too bad I’m too much of a bastard to do what’s right for her twice. At least I can justify keeping her with the fact not keeping her almost got her killed.
Her walls have pictures full of her and her family, all of them smiling and laughing. Except for one. There’s one where she looks like her heart has been yanked out of her chest, and she’s a million miles away in it. Distant, cold, hurt… It’s the only one not framed, but it’s taped to her wall.
Curious, I pull it off, and flip it over, seeing the date. Doing the math isn’t hard. This is right around the time her sister died. It’s probably the moment something in her changed and shifted, something bitter that spread inside her like a disease.
Something that made her trust and love a guy like me.
The bubbly girl in all of these other pictures wouldn’t have ever been strong enough to endure what she has since coming to me. Losing her sister might have saved her life, considering Marshall fucked this family over, and would have no matter what the circumstances.
Then again, if her sister’s hospital bills and funeral costs hadn’t been so high, her father might not have been desperate enough to ever get involved with us. It’s all a row of dominos, remove one, and they can’t all fall. Everything was pieced together to bring her to me.
My eyes flit to the crisp white dressers that also sport flower designs on them. Cheery. Bright. Young. Carefree… This was her before she lost her sister.
Walking over to the dresser, I flip open a sketchbook. Every page is dated, all of them within the past year. Every picture is mildly disturbing, showing pain, grief, anger, rage… Nothing flowery or cheerful in these drawings. I bet I’d find butterfly pics in the sketchbooks prior to her sister’s death.
Eve wasn’t made for me, but life molded her for me later on. It’s pretty fucked up that I became her light. No one probably even noticed she was suffering. Add in her father’s supposed suicide, and you have someone bitter, resentful, angry… Someone like me.
Blowing out a breath, I turn to see Eve leaning against the doorway of her room, watching me silently.
“Please tell me you don’t want fucking flowers in our place,” I say, trying to lighten the air.
Her lips turn up in the faintest of smiles. “Our place? As in your warehouse room?”
I shrug, leaning back on the dresser and crossing my arms over my chest. “There and our house, when I buy another one.”
“Our house?” she muses, smiling a little bigger.
“I think I made it clear I wasn’t letting you go again. So yeah… Our house.”
She looks down, smiling bigger, and her dark, shiny hair falls over her face.
“So how does this work?” she asks, looking back up as a flicker of fear tries to show itself, but she does well to act tough. I don’t like that.
Blowing out a breath, I glance around. “You stay here until he shows up. We drive away like we’re leaving you on your own. Snake spreads the word that I’m done with you. Since he’s the most bitter, he can sell it. Pop won’t make a move in the burbs. No worries. He’s smart enough to smell a trap anyway, and he’ll think it’s been set for him. He’ll avoid this entire situation. The only ones who will be drawn in are Ben Jr. and Marshall. Probably Ben Jr. only. I doubt Marshall is actually going to do any physical confrontation on his own. But once we have Ben, we can locate Marshall.”
“But you won’t be far away?” she asks hesitantly.
“Not far at all. Just down the road. Keep your phone on you at all times. The house is bugged, but I still want you to hit my number on your cell and drop the phone if someone shows up. Got it? We can’t be too close or they’ll figure shit out.” I groan deep in my throat. “Fuck it. I can’t go through with this. It’s too fucking dangerous, Eve.”
She walks toward me, and that determination spreads over her face, eclipsing every ounce of doubt she was wearing.
“I can do this, Drex. We can. It’s the only way to end it. We have enough to worry about with Herrin to have to worry about this as well.”
Brave. That’s one word for her. Stupid is the word for me.
“I don’t like this,” I grumble, watching the way she smiles up at me because she knows I’d do anything she asked. Pretty sure I’d fucking set the world on fire if she asked me to. “I also don’t like knowing this could take a few days or weeks. I prefer having you under me at all times.”
“I like being on top on occasion,” she quips, smirking up at me.