Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78016 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78016 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“Going to the meet and greet, like you’re supposed to be.”
“Don’t feel like it.” He shrugs.
“So they’re not here for you?” I nod toward the women still going at it.
“Nope.”
“Then you won’t mind me doing this...” I stalk over to them and fist each of their manes. “Get out. Now.”
They both screech but stumble off the couch. “We were invited!” one whines.
“And now you’re uninvited.” I push them toward the door, open it up, and shove them out before I slam it closed again.
“What part of space did you not understand?” he says, glaring at me over the bottle.
“Seriously?” I walk over to where he’s sitting and grab the bottle from him, the liquid sloshing out over my hand. “It’s enough already. I get you’re upset, but it’s been days, and all you’re doing is getting drunk.”
Up until this point, he hasn’t moved, his features completely devoid of any emotion. But the second the bottle leaves his hand, he jumps up in my face, grabs the bottle from me, and sends it flying across the room. It smashes against the wall, glass and liquid exploding under the pressure.
“It’s enough? What are you, my fucking mom?” he half barks, half slurs since he’s three sheets to the wind. “Although, I’d bet you two would get along really well. Both of you fucking martyrs.”
When he gets in my face, the scent of the alcohol sends me back to when I was a kid... when my dad would get so drunk, he’d start throwing shit, which would lead to him beating the shit out of my mom.
The flashbacks have me stumbling backward, the reality of the situation hitting me like a slap to the face. “You asked me to communicate,” I say to him slowly, my eyes locking with his. “Well, this is me communicating loud and fucking clear. I will not be with someone who uses drugs and alcohol to deal with the shitty parts of life. So figure your shit out, and then get back to me.”
I open the door, but before I can make my escape, he makes sure to get the last word in. “That’s right, Kaylee. Run. Run like you always do. I wouldn’t expect anything less. Not from you or from my mother.”
I want nothing more than to turn around and hug him, comfort him, because I know he’s lashing out. He’s been hurt. But I can’t and won’t ever be someone’s punching bag. I watched my mom do it for years. I don’t believe Braxton would ever put his hands on me, but when people are under the influence, shit gets twisted. My mom never thought my dad would hurt her either. She made excuse after excuse until she was in a hospital bed. She was fighting for her life after having been beaten and finally had no choice but to admit that the man she loved, who she swore would never hurt her, did just that.
So I do what I have to do and walk out the door.
Back at the bus, I pack my stuff and then book a flight to New York. I find Camden as they’re coming out from meeting with the fans and pull him to the side.
“I have to go. If that means I’m fired—”
“Whoa, stop,” he says. “Did something happen?”
“He threw a bottle of alcohol across the room. I just...with my mom and dad...” I choke out, my throat filled with raw emotion so thick I’m unable to finish my thoughts. This isn’t how I saw Braxton’s and my relationship progressing, but I should’ve known nothing in life is ever that easy. And the worst part is that I had finally got him back. Felt him, smelled him, touched him, kissed him...We made love under the stars while fireworks went off, and then the next morning, it all went to shit.
“I get it,” Camden says, squeezing my shoulder in a comforting manner. “Honestly, I think it’s probably for the best.”
“You think I’m making it worse.”
“I think as long as you’re here, he’s going to keep doing this. Maybe if he sees you’re gone, he’ll wake the hell up.”
“Or he’ll think I ran.” Like he accused me of doing earlier.
“You’re not running. You’re walking away from a situation you don’t deserve to be in. Braxton had a bunch of shit dropped on him, and he’s got to wade through it on his own. He never actually dealt with what happened with you two, and now with his mom...I think space will be good for you both.”
My heart aches at his words, but he’s right. Braxton went from hating me for cheating to being pissed that I lied to pulling me close and us almost acting like it never happened. It was easy to do because when things are good between us, they’re damn good. The problem is we’ve never dealt with the bad. I want to deal with it together, but I can’t do that if he’s not in a place to be with me.