Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 129323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Guilt pounds against me, and I succumb to it.
36
CASSIDY
I’m not sure how much time has passed, but I’m still in the same position I’ve been in since he left me. I’m curled into myself on the floor, shivering from the cold seeping through my bones.
This was always going to happen. It was inevitable.
I had hoped it wouldn’t come down to this. That I could’ve been honest, not forced to spill my truth. That he would have let me explain…
You lied.
You gave him reason to question your motives.
Not once. But twice. Hell, I broke it over and over again. Every word I said, every look I gave reiterates this.
After everything he’s been through at the hands of his shitty mom, trust doesn’t come easy. And what I did shattered whatever trust I’ve built up.
The moment I slept with him, my original reasons for being there were moot. Pip, the girl he knew, disappeared soon after he left.
Aiden Slate doesn’t trust anyone, and he trusted me. He trusted Pippa back in the day, and he trusted Cassidy. In one fell swoop, I destroyed that for both versions of me.
I saw the hate in his eyes.
The disgust.
I broke more than his trust.
I’m an awful person.
And for what?
Love.
Because that’s the truth of things. I fell in love with Aiden.
I couldn’t just leave him. Couldn’t abandon him like everyone else does.
I hoped he was falling for me too. And even if he wasn’t, I wanted anything he was willing to give me.
Any tiny scrap.
Bile crawls up my throat, and I run to the bathroom.
My knees hit the cold tile as I open the lid and dry heave.
Nothing comes up, though. My stomach is empty.
My life…empty.
I sit there for a minute as tears pour down my face. Waiting for my turning stomach to spill its contents. It doesn’t. Even my body is intent on keeping me miserable.
In pain.
Suffering.
After a few minutes, I stand, making my way to the sink and turning on the faucet. I splash cold water on my face, and the chill is enough to snap me out of my stupor.
“Why did he leave me?” I ask my reflection in the mirror, but the poor, sad, heartbroken fool doesn’t respond.
Not that I need her to. I know what I did. I deserve his hatred.
You don’t know shit.
Those were the last words he hurled at me before storming out of my life.
What could he have meant?
Curiosity gets the better of me, and I wipe my hands on my face to rid myself of the extra water clinging to my lids. I’m in search of the little slip of white paper he threw at me, and I find it lying on the floor.
I pick it up, and despite the size, it feels heavy in my hand. I turn it over, staring at it, but mostly delaying. Whatever this is…it feels important. An outcome that will most likely change me forever. And that thought alone makes my breathing ragged. My heart races. My palms sweat.
I turn it over again. This time, I read the words.
A website is scrawled across the top, followed by a username and a code.
My name and his number creating the username. Pip13.
What is this?
Under it says, “…with interest. We’re even now.”
What the hell does that mean?
There’s only one way to find out. I make a mad dash for my room, snatching up my laptop and typing in the information.
The website sends me to a bank account, and my heart stutters before resuming the pounding quality it’s taken on since my secret was exposed.
I’m not sure what I’m going to find, but my fingers type in all the information quickly.
You know exactly what you’ll find.
My hands shake as I wait for it to load. The screen refreshes, and a bank account dashboard pops up.
The balance of $60,000 flashes back at me, and my eyes narrow in on the screen.
Confusion settles over me as a million questions run through my mind.
Whose money is this?
Why did he give me the details?
I press the profile information and start to scour the site.
Under the profile setting, I search for the account details. Aiden’s name is at the top, but beneath it, under a heading for account nickname, is a name I haven’t seen in years. Pippa Johnson. The name I gave him long ago. The only name he knew me as.
My eyes well with tears, and my heart slows.
Seeing that name brings about a host of emotions. It’s what I went by before I escaped the hellhole I grew up in. I changed my last name to my mother’s maiden name the second I got away. All the reasons I left Pippa behind crash over me.
The abuse.
The neglect.
The hurt.
The betrayal.
The accident.
This money is for me.
You forgot about me.
You don’t know shit.
My eyes blur as I stare at the computer screen.