Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 80969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Ugh. If the jerk could smile, I know he’d be smirking right now.
“Seriously, do you have to be so crass?”
“Yes, Red, I do have to be so fucking crass.”
Do not roll your eyes. Do not roll your eyes.
“And please stop calling me Red. My name is Carrie, which you know, of course, because I told you it—well, yelled it at you two weeks ago, from my porch, when you blatantly ignored me.”
River doesn’t say anything to that. Any normal person would at least be embarrassed at being called out, like I just called him out.
But he’s not normal.
Of course he’s not.
All I get from him is a devil-may-care shrug, and then he casually slips his hands into his jeans pockets, like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
Jerk.
Deep breaths, Carrie. In and out.
“Right, well, we’ll be off then,” I state huffily, more than ready to get away from him and into some dry clothes. Then, I need to figure out what I’m going to do with my little buddy here.
I spin on my heel, ready to walk across his garden and back to mine through the gap in the fence, when his voice stops me.
“Where are you going?”
I look over my shoulder at him, giving him a stupid look. “Home. You know, the house next to yours.”
Look at me, being all sassy. When did this happen?
I don’t know. But I definitely like it.
“Funny. What you gonna do, Red? Scale the fence?”
I ignore the Red comment and say, “No, go through the gap in it.”
He takes a step forward. “There’s a gap?”
“Yep.” I let the P pop, like he did before. “That’s how I got in here in the first place.”
“Fucking great,” he huffs more to himself than me. “I’ll be fixing that the first chance I get.” He jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “There’s a side gate there, Red. Use it.”
It’s my turn to frown at him. I turn slowly. “You know, the neighborly thing to do would be to let me go through your house instead of the side gate.”
“Do I look neighborly to you?”
“No. You look like a grumpy asshole.”
Oh my God! I can’t believe I just said that.
I have to stop myself from slapping my hand over my mouth. Instead, I press my lips together, holding my breath, bracing myself. My body remembering what would happen if I ever spoke to Neil in this way.
But Neil’s not here.
You’re safe.
This guy might swear like a sailor, but he’s not going to hurt you.
The dog restlessly shifts its warm little body against my chest. I force myself to relax.
I honestly don’t know what’s going on with me right now. It’s so not like me to sass back like this.
“So, she does curse after all.”
If I didn’t know better, I would think there was a smirk on his lips.
The knowledge helps me to relax more.
I lift my chin, forging a strength I don’t really feel. “I never said I didn’t curse.” Liar. “I said I didn’t like the C-word.”
“You mean cunt.”
I know he said it to get a rise out of me. But I’m not going to give him the satisfaction.
It’s not like I never wanted to curse. It’s that I wasn’t allowed to.
Neil forbade it. And, if I ever made the mistake of cursing, I would pay for it.
“Sit at my feet, Annie.”
Body trembling, I lowered myself to my knees in front of my husband and looked up at him, like I knew I was supposed to.
Emotionless, cold eyes stared down at me. “Women should not curse. Nor should they have opinions. They should be seen. Not heard. Women shouldn’t work. They should stay home and take care of their husbands. And they should do everything their husbands tell them to. If they do not adhere to these rules, then the husbands have every right to punish them as they see fit. Recite the words back to me, Annie. Now.”
I hold back the shudder my body wants to give at the memory echoing in my mind.
You’re fine. You’re safe.
I know all of these things, but I just want to go home now.
“Well … bye,” I mumble as I walk past River, shaking the past off.
I’m pretty sure the little dog in my arms has fallen asleep against my shoulder. Bless his heart.
I get a whiff of what I think is the smell of cigar smoke as I pass by him. It does something funny to my stomach. A swoop and dive feeling. Weird. I hope the baby doesn’t start craving the smell of cigar smoke.
Not healthy at all, my sweet baby.
“You should probably take the mutt to the vet.” River’s quiet, almost reluctant words reach me just before I get to the gate.
I stop and half-turn back to him. “You think so?”
“He’s a stray who just took a dunk in my pool. So, I’d say, yeah, he needs to see a vet.”