Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 122097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
He points back. “You wanted to stay. You’re the one who brought it up.”
“I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
“And you weren’t a kid, Lowyn. You were twenty years old, for fuck’s sake. People around here, they’ve got three kids of their own by the time they’re twenty.”
“Well, I’m not from here! I was a newly dropped-out college student in the middle of a new adult crisis and fighting off depression and fear. I’m allowed to make mistakes. And I get it.” I point to the photo album. “It was real to you people—”
“To you people?”
“It was real to you, but it wasn’t real to me. And it wasn’t legal.” So much for that olive branch I had been plannin’ to offer.
“You think we’re just a bunch of stupid hillbillies, don’t you?”
“I was gonna apologize and you just went and ruined it. Forget it. I’m not sorry. I’m mad. You took advantage of me—”
“Fuuuuuuck. You!” he says all dramatically. “I pulled you out of a wreck. Probably saved your life, since you had a concussion and all. Where was Collin Creed that night, huh?”
“He’s got nothing to do with this and you know it.”
“He killed Olive’s daddy!”
“That man broke into Collin’s house and tried to kidnap her!”
“She was his child! That’s not kidnapping!”
“It most certainly is.” I growl these words out. The fucking audacity. I just can’t. “If he really was Olive’s father—and I really don’t believe you. I mean, you people can just say and think whatever you want, fuck proving it true, right? But even if she was, he broke in. We were all scared. Collin did what anyone would do. Even you. Are you really trying to tell me that if Pastor Creed had broken into one of these houses and tried to steal a child, none of you would’ve blown his head off?” I scoff. “Jim Bob made me come up here today to sort this out because he said I was the only one who could get up the hill without being shot. That’s the reputation this place has. Not to mention all your fuckin’ secrets.” I put up my hands to stop him, because he’s opening his mouth to talk back. “I don’t want your stupid secrets. I don’t care what you’re doing up here. I’m fuckin’ sorry that I broke your heart, or whatever—”
He guffaws. “You wish.”
“Then what the hell is wrong with you, Ike Monroe? Why are you such a flaming asshole?”
His eyes blaze up and he comes at me. I step backwards—again and again—until my back is pressed up against a wall and Ike Monroe is looming over me, his face red with anger.
He’s embarrassed, I think. I’ve embarrassed him. “I think you liked me,” I whisper. His face is so close, we could be kissing. But he’s so hot with anger, I know with a hundred percent certainty that he’s not thinking about kissing me.
He wants to hit me.
But I don’t care. I’m gonna say what I’ve always thought and he can do whatever the hell he wants with it. “I think you liked me a lot. And when I walked out, you took it personal. Like a fuckin’ teenage boy. Because that marriage ceremony we had, it wasn’t about love, was it, Ike? No.” He’s grittin’ his teeth and clenching his jaw as he leans into my face. “It wasn’t about love, it was about power. Your power over me. And maybe over Collin, even though he’d already been gone two years at that point. You are a small, small man with an ego the size of this mountain.”
He slaps me. Hard. Right across the cheek. My head jerks to the side and I let out a breath, very surprised that he lost control like this.
But I haven’t lost control. Not at all. No one has ever slapped me. Ever. So I haven’t been conditioned to be afraid of it yet.
I turn my head back and look him straight in the eyes. “You’re a monster. I’m glad I left you. It was the best decision I ever made. No one will ever love you. And fuck you, and fuck your mother”—he slaps me again, but I just laugh this time and look him in the eyes again—“and fuck this whole place.”
He takes a step back, and for a moment I think it’s over. But then I realize he’s making a fist and the next blow is probably gonna knock me out.
I look him in the eyes and dare him to do it. In fact, I take it one step further. Because if I’m gonna get hit by this piece of shit, then I’m gonna make it worth it. “No wonder Olive’s mama wanted to leave.”
“You bitch,” he snarls. “Don’t you—”
But I cut him off. “No wonder Lasher walked out too.”
His fist is still in play. And he’s seething. But there’s a moment here when he maybe wavers. Then his anger is too much and I know he’s gonna do it.