Total pages in book: 217
Estimated words: 207224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1036(@200wpm)___ 829(@250wpm)___ 691(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 207224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1036(@200wpm)___ 829(@250wpm)___ 691(@300wpm)
I want to double the order. You can deliver, can’t you, Chaka?
Otto coughs, knocking me from my thoughts. “And do we know how we’re taking this delivery yet?”
I glare at him, silently telling him to fuck off before I fuck him up.
James heads for the door. “I need to be somewhere.”
“You look like you’re in a rush.”
“I am.”
“We have the delivery to coordinate,” I call. “It was you who had this bright idea to keep the delivery to a Friday when the Coast Guard is training.”
“Just trying to keep all the criminals happy while staying alive,” James mutters, not stopping.
“Where are you going?” I yell.
“None of your business.”
I recoil, throwing a curious look to Otto, who shrugs, and to Goldie, who is still scowling. Am I the only one wondering what the fuck he’s up to?
12
ROSE
“Fuck it all to hell!” I mutter, staring at the bush that now has a hole in it the shape of Dolly’s hood. “Beau, I’m so sorry.” I turn to my friend, praying for forgiveness—fuck the bush. This car is sentimental. A hunk of junk but so sentimental.
Beau’s just staring at the car, and my heart sinks, as I reluctantly turn my eyes onto the paintwork to look at the damage. Oh God. Scratches. Everywhere. “I’ll pay for it to be fixed,” I tell her, ignoring the little part of my brain that’s asking me how the hell I’m going to do that without having to ask my husband for some cash. And I have a horrible realization in this moment. Awful! I have no money, not of my own. Everything has been signed over to me, yes, but I can’t get at it. I didn’t earn any of it. Work for it. God damn it, I’m still a prisoner. He controls me. All of me.
I feel a lump forming in my throat, and I hate myself for it when my best friend is staring at her most precious possession—something her mother gave her—that I have just crashed. I was supposed to be distracting her. I’m so fucking dumb. Beau turns her eyes onto me, and my lip wobbles, my mouth loading with a million apologies to pour. She jerks a little, as if snapping out of a daydream. “I’m so s—”
“Jesus, Rose, are you okay?” Beau dashes over to me and places both hands on my little bump, and I withdraw, taken aback.
“I’m fine,” I say. I hardly moved in my seat, felt no pressure on my tummy. “But Dolly isn’t.”
“Dolly’s fine. Are you sure you’re okay? The baby, does she feel okay?”
I still in front of her, my mouth falling open.
“Can you feel her moving?”
“It’s too early to feel movement,” I say quietly.
“It is?” Beau rubs circles on my tummy, as if trying to stimulate movement. And in answer, a mild flutter of bubbles pop as if telling me she’s okay. As if she knows my friend needs that reassurance.
“Oh my God, I felt her. She’s moving,” I say, laying my hand over Beau’s. She inhales, eyes full of wonder staring at me. She doesn’t even realize what she’s said in her panic. “She is fine.”
“Thank God,” Beau breathes smiling mildly. Then it drops, as do her hands from my stomach, and she steps back. “Oh shit.” Her hand slaps over her mouth, and I laugh. It’s too late for that.
“I’m having a girl?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “Nope, nay, noh, nein.”
“I’m having a girl!”
“God damn it!”
“I’m having a girl,” I say, bracing my hands on my knees to hold me up, starting to laugh hysterically. “My God, he’s going to have a fucking fit.” Another girl to worry about? He’ll be sectioned.
“You can’t tell him I told you,” Beau says, as I lower myself to the ground, feeling weak, and very worried I could pee my panties at any moment. “Rose, for Christ’s sake, will you promise me you won’t tell him?”
“I promise.” I chuckle, on my back, looking up at the clouds.
“I’m so stupid,” Beau moans, joining me on the ground, lying next to me and taking my hand. I turn my face to hers, wiping my eyes, my body still sporadically jolting with the aftermath of my laughing fit. And Beau smiles. It’s a true smile, the kind of smile that lights her face and dampens the darkness that shrouds her life. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she whispers, her voice ragged.
I exhale and settle. She wouldn’t know what to do without James either, but that goes without saying. And I guess girls need girls sometimes when men just do not know what to do. “They’ll fix this,” I say.
“I know they will. I just wish more stuff for them to fix would stop turning up. And I wish more that I could maintain a consistent, calm, accepting aura.”