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)
I push myself to sit upright. It takes some effort. Then, I stand and walk over to the door. “And why would I do that?” I ask.
“So, if I did anything to you, the cops would know that it was me who hurt you.”
“I’d rather not take the risk. Thanks.”
“Please, Carrie.” I hear his head thump against the door. “I just … fuck, I just need to see you. What you told me—”
“Forget what I said.”
“I can’t. I can’t get the images out of my head. Of him hurting you.” He sounds like he’s in physical pain. “I just need to know you’re okay.”
I wrap my arms around myself. “I’m fine.”
I take another step to the door until I’m up close to it. I can hear him breathing on the other side.
“I’m not,” he says quietly.
I don’t know if he means for me to hear him or not. But it’s those words that have me reaching for the door and unlocking it.
I pull the door open a bit and look at him through the crack.
He looks terrible.
I can smell cigar smoke on him. It weakens my resolve a little bit more.
“Hey,” he says softly.
I catch the smell of alcohol on his breath.
And I don’t like it one bit.
“You’ve been drinking.”
“What? Shit. Yes, but I’m not drunk. I had one whiskey. I always have one with my cigar before bed. You know that.”
That’s true. I do know that.
“Okay,” I say. “So, why aren’t you in bed now?”
“Red …” His dark brows draw together. “There was no way I was sleeping tonight. And, by the looks of it, you either.”
I shake my head.
“You should rest though. For Olive’s sake.”
“She’s not sleeping right now, so …” I shrug my shoulders.
“She’s on the move?” he asks, staring down at my bump.
“Yep,” I answer quietly.
He lifts his eyes back to mine. There’s a pleading look to them. “Can I come in? There are things I need to say to you … things I need to tell you, and I don’t want to say them out here. But I will if that’s what you want. If that’s what will make you feel more comfortable.”
I think for a few seconds. Then, I step back. Widening the door, I let him in.
“Thank you,” he says quietly as I close the door behind him.
I walk over to the sofa and lower myself to sit down. He comes and sits down beside me, angling his body toward mine, so I do the same.
There’s a moment of silence where he’s just staring at my face, his eyes roaming like he’s looking for something.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” I ask self-consciously.
“You’re beautiful, Carrie. I’ve never told you that before, and I should have because it’s the truth. I thought it the moment I saw you. And every single time after that, even when I was being an ass to you.”
My lips part in surprise. “Why are you telling me this now?”
“Because you want us to be truthful with each other. And that’s the truth. I think you’re beautiful. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. You’re good and pure and honest. And I wanted to start with that because the rest of the things I have to tell you are not good or pure or honest. They’re dark and black and fucked up.”
“Okay.” I swallow, preparing myself for whatever is about to come out of his mouth.
“Okay,” he echoes, shifting in his seat. “I’m not sure exactly where to start.”
“The beginning is usually a good place.”
He lets out a breath and shakes his head. “No. I’ll start at the end and work my way back to the beginning.”
His fingers are flexing in and out in agitation.
“River … you don’t have to do this if it’s too much.”
His eyes come to mine. They’re filled with determination.
“You stood there, in my kitchen, and told me things that I can only imagine were incredibly painful for you to say. You’re brave, Red. And you make me want to be brave, too.” He rubs the back of his neck with his hand. “No one outside of my mama and Gran has cared about me in the way you do. I want to be worthy of that.”
“You are,” I tell him. Reaching out, I take hold of his hand and squeeze it.
He stares down at our hands. “No, I’m not. But I want to be.” He lifts his eyes to mine. The emotion in them is almost overwhelming. “I … I care about you, too, you know.”
I swallow down my feelings that are threatening to turn to tears. Damn pregnancy hormones.
Afraid to speak, I just nod.
He lifts my hand to his mouth and presses the sweetest of kisses to it. Then, he lays my hand back in my lap, letting go.
He takes a deep breath and starts to talk, “At the store earlier, I saw a man who I know is a convicted sex offender.”