Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
“Now I don’t feel like I ever knew him…” He’d lied to me, every single day. “He said he fell in love with me, and that was the reason he didn’t tell me the truth as our relationship continued…because he didn’t want to lose me.”
Damien didn’t blink at that information. “I don’t believe that. Not for a second.”
I didn’t know what I believed. “It doesn’t matter anyway.”
“I’m going to make him pay for everything he’s done to our family, for what he’s done to our father, me, you…” He stared at the ground. “I’m going to kill him. And this time, you better not intervene.”
“Trust me.” I took a drink from my glass. “I won’t.”
I sat at the table and enjoyed my drink while the girls talked about the performance we’d finished just a few hours ago. This was my second drink, another I hadn’t paid for, and I downed it quickly so I could get that nice buzz.
“I haven’t seen you with Heath in a while,” Tracy said. “Is he coming tonight?”
“No,” I said quickly. “I dumped him.” The words came out of my mouth easily, tumbling out like they meant nothing to me at all.
Concern moved into her eyes. “Oh my god, what happened?”
“I broke up with him,” I said simply. “It wasn’t working.”
“Wow…I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” I looked into my drink, pouting my lips when I saw it was empty. Now I had to walk my ass to the bar if I wanted another. Or I could wait until someone bought me another. “It was just a fling. I’m over it.”
“But he was so hot. Like, insanely hot.”
I shrugged. “There’re lots of hot guys out there.”
“Ugh, not like him,” she said. “He was a whole different level.”
“Then why don’t you go out with him?” He was a manipulative liar, a murderer of innocent people, a complete piece of shit.
“Because…” She looked past me, losing her train of thought. “It looks like you’re the only one he wants to talk to.”
I stopped licking the last few drops of my drink then gave her a confused expression. When her gaze continued to focus on something past me, I looked over my shoulder.
He sat alone at a nearby table, his vodka beside him. He was in a long-sleeved shirt and jeans, staring at me like he’d been there for a while, looking at my back in the hope I would notice him eventually.
I turned back to her. “That motherfucker…” I got out of my chair and strutted to him, ready to break his nose with my iron fist.
He rose from his chair so he could meet my look head on.
“What the hell did I say?” I snapped, yelling over the music. “I told you not to—”
“Go to your apartment, your performance, or call or text. You didn’t say anything about running into you at a bar.”
I was not in the mood for his smartass remarks. “I’m not amused.”
“Wasn’t trying to amuse you.” His eyes looked into mine like he hadn’t seen me in years. It’d only been weeks, but he stared at my features like he’d never really looked at them before. “You look beautiful.”
I made a disgusted face. “Leave me alone, Heath.”
“You came over here.”
“Fine.” I turned around. “Then enjoy your night—”
“Catalina.” He grabbed me by the elbow.
I turned at the touch, slamming my closed fist hard into his nose.
His head flew back slightly, but he didn’t make a sound, even when his nose started to bleed.
“Don’t touch me.”
He looked at me as the blood dripped to the top of his lip. He rubbed it away with his sleeve but didn’t show a hint of anger at my actions.
“Touch me again, and I’ll break your balls.”
“I just want to talk to you.” When his nose continued to bleed, he wiped away the blood again.
“And say what?” I asked. “I told you I want nothing to do with you.”
“I thought you needed a few weeks to cool off.”
“Cool off?” I asked. “I’m not angry, Heath. I’m just indifferent to you.”
His eyes showed signs of pain, narrowing on my face like my words hurt more than the punch. “That’s not me. You know that’s not me. The man I am now is the man you’ve been with for months. That’s me.”
“If someone murders someone, gets away with it, and then becomes the Pope, does that mean it doesn’t matter that he killed someone decades ago?” I asked incredulously.
He sighed loudly. “I didn’t murder your father.”
“But you’re still a sick son of a bitch for trying.” I turned around to walk back to the table.
This time, he blocked my path with his size, but he didn’t actually touch me. “You know what I’ve been doing the last few weeks? I’ve been miserable. Fucking miserable. And I know you have too.”
“I’ve been fine,” I said with a straight face. “Absolutely fine.”