Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Riven
With each person walking by me, I felt their eyes linger, saw them whisper and pretend not to be discussing who I was. It made my skin crawl, but I pushed through, picking up the groceries Grandma had asked me to get after my PO appointment.
I didn’t care what people thought of me. I didn’t care about anyone in Clayton, but I hated being watched, being stared at like I was some kinda fucking attraction put there for their amusement. It was one of the reasons I tried not to go anywhere. That, and disliking people in general, but I would do anything Grandma asked. How could I not?
I turned down another aisle, scanning for the cornmeal she wanted, when I saw them. Becca was pushing a cart with a toddler sitting inside it. The little girl was pointing to something. She had chubby cheeks, and her hair was the same dark auburn as Bec’s.
Parrish stood beside her, another little girl holding his hand. Her hair was black, her eyes brown with thick lashes. She was spinning around and dancing, Parrish moving his arm with her, as if it was automatic.
They hadn’t seen me yet.
My skin started to itch. I wanted nothing more than to get out of there. I could have gone my whole life without seeing Becca again. But just as I started to turn and walk away, she glanced my direction, then did a double take when she recognized me. She froze, tears pooling in her eyes, teeth digging into her bottom lip, and Jesus Christ, she looked like she was going to cry.
“Riv,” she said gently, almost a whisper, but one that echoed out, playing on repeat around me.
Parrish’s head whipped my way, eyes darting from me to Becca, his jaw tense.
“Riven,” Becca said again, as if testing the sound of my name on her tongue.
The little girl holding Parrish’s hand looked to be an age that was too close for comfort, making my throat feel like it was closing up.
“Who’s that, Uncle Parrish?”
“An old friend, kiddo,” he replied in a cautious tone.
“How have you been? I…” Bec’s gaze shot to the kids, then back to me, like she wished this moment wasn’t happening around them. I wished it wasn’t happening at all.
Were we really going to talk like nothing happened? Forget that she had been my girlfriend when shit had gone down? That I’d heard she’d cheated on me with Rex? That there had been rumors she was fucking around with Rex before I was even sentenced, and that she hadn’t come to see me once? That she’d just gone from being with me to being with Rex in the hardest moment of my life? Not that I would’ve wanted her to sit around and wait for me, but choosing Rex, sleeping with Rex while I was sitting in jail, waiting for trial and to be sentenced, and never seeing her?
I didn’t blame her for moving on. Hell, I didn’t even blame her for ending up with Rex, not really. I understood his ability to manipulate people and make them feel like they had no other choice except him, but that didn’t mean I wanted to hash it all out or pretend everything was okay.
And the little girl…Christ, she was only five or so.
“I’m sorry… Can we… I don’t… I have to go.” She walked away, leaving the cart and both kids there with Parrish.
His eyes were soft, pleading with me not to say anything, and what the fuck kind of man did he think I was? That I’d make a scene in front of these kids like I didn’t know their life was probably hard enough already?
I couldn’t help looking down at the one holding his hand, though. She didn’t look like me, not outside of the hair and eye color, but Bec had brown eyes too, and Rex had dark hair. Still, I couldn’t get over how close the timing was. The fact that now I had proof Becca was fucking Rex when we were together. Either that or… I shook my head, refusing to believe that. Grandma would have told me. If there was any question, she wouldn’t have let that little girl be with the Hunts if she was mine.
“Don’t, Riv. It’s not what you think,” Parrish warned with that mouth that had been on my dick just a damn week ago. What a mess this was. Why in the hell was I getting tangled up in this shit? We belonged on an episode of one of those shows where they had to take a DNA test to see who the father was.
I bit back the words I wanted to say, the curses that lingered on the tip of my tongue, but I wasn’t about to let them spill out in front of the kids. “You don’t know what I think.” I grabbed a box from the shelf and walked away.