Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
“Loud it is,” I say, nodding. “As long as you’re sure you’re ready…”
“Luca told you about my mom.” When I hesitate, he goes on. “I know he did. He tells people. He knows I prefer it that way. I don’t like speaking about it.”
“Yeah, he told me.”
“So there you go. That’s all the reason in the world.”
“Is it?”
He glances at me, then pauses. “Not close with your folks?”
“I never knew them,” I tell him. “I was raised like a dog.”
I think of Shadow.
“A dog?”
“What did I say?” I snap. “This isn’t a therapy session.”
Dante drives in silence.
CHAPTER 19
Lexi
“Is he still following you?” Mia asks as I turn the corner to my street. I had to tell her eventually, as crazy as it is.
“Yeah,” I reply. “Do you think I should call someone?”
If somebody does start following me in a sleek red wannabe pimp wagon, then I’ll have to give it up to Mia and start believing in fate. It would simply be too unbelievable to put down to chance.
“Are your parents home?”
“Wait, he’s stopping.”
He stops at the end of the street. I park up, then look in the rearview. My stomach is already a tight knot.
“It’s Ralph,” I gasp as he steps from the car. “He must be going to his parents’ house.”
“They live on your street?”
“How do you think this all happened?”
“Yeah, right. I’m sorry, Lexi.”
Ralph turns and walks over in his slick suit, grinning down at me with his hands in his pockets. He looks like a wannabe landlord preening and bragging in front of a tenant. “Lexi, I thought that was you! I wanted to say you should ease up on the gas every so often. You could get somebody killed.”
He grins at me, then turns when the front door opens. The politeness in Mom’s voice makes me cringe. “Oh, Ralph, is that you? I was just talking to your mother about you the other day!”
I grab my phone and turn it off speaker as Ralph wanders over and starts chitchatting with Mom.
“He’s sleazing it up with my mom,” I say. “She’s known him since he was a kid. That’s a big deal, apparently.”
“Does your mom know what happened?” Mia asks.
“Nobody does. Just you. Just him. Just me.”
“Then maybe…”
I sigh. “I know. I should cut her some slack, but whenever I see her smiling at him, I wish she somehow knew what he really was. I wish I didn’t have to tell her. I’m going to go, Mia.”
“Call me if you need me. I mean that.”
“Thanks. I mean that.”
I hang up the phone, walking over to the happy pair.
“It was. It was,” Ralph is saying, nodding.
“I’m just saying to Ralph, Lexi, it’s quite the coincidence, isn’t it?”
“It’s a small city,” I grunt. “A small world.”
“At least you know you’re in good hands,” Mom says.
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “Well, Ralph, it’s been lovely seeing you in and out of work. Bye.”
I walk inside and head up the stairs. Behind me, Mom says goodbye and closes the door. She calls after me, “Hard day, Lexi?”
I ignore her. It’s an old habit she’s trying to break, but I’m not like Ruby. I didn’t leave just as Mom and Dad reconnected, just as Mom discovered what it was like to be loving and to care again. It has seemed to make it easier for Ruby to accept this new version.
For me, though, the cuts still run way deeper than I’d like them to, even when she tries to make it right every day. Is it a me problem, then?
When I step into my room, I see a text from Colt. I wonder if he just sent it or if it got delayed in getting to me. Let me know when you’re home safe.
The words warm me up way more than they usually would. It’s a simple request, something friends and even coworkers might ask each other, but after our argument and our first kiss—so much happened so fast—it means a lot.
I’m home. Remember, there’s no red car. I know you’re busy tonight. I don’t want to distract you. I pause typing, remembering the fierce, almost scary look that came into his expression when he was answering his phone. He looked ready for warfare. But I can explain.
The message remains delivered. I stare at it for an embarrassing amount of time, waiting for the notification window to change to read. When it stays on the initial readout, I force myself to put my phone down, dragging a hand through my hair.
A minute later, a knock comes at the door. It’s Mom.
She’s got her hands clasped in front of her. It brings to mind images of how she’d stand when asking Ruby for advice. While growing up, when Mom and Dad argued nonstop, Mom would always treat Ruby like her therapist. She would pile too much on her young head, and Ruby was too kind and loving to tell her to back off.