Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 69098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
“Can we go hunting tomorrow, Dad?” I ask when there’s a lull in the usual dinner commotion.
Mom opens her mouth, no doubt to deny me, when Dad speaks up first. “Sure, sunshine.”
“Your chores around here are beginning to slack,” Mom says, frowning. “There’s too much to do around here. Dad and the boys can handle it.”
Kota sticks his tongue out at me, triumphant at my being denied. I glower at him and mouth the words, “Dad’s belt” before turning to my parents to plead my case.
“It’s not fair,” I grumble. “Just because I have a vagina I have to clean and cook. It’s stupid.”
“Raegan,” Dad warns, voice sharp like a blade.
I’m his little girl until it involves arguing with Mom. He protects her always, even from my words.
“I can do them,” Ronan offers from beside me. “Rae loves hunting a lot more than I do.”
I could kiss him for having my back. I’m not sure that’d go over well with my parents, though, so instead, I reach over and take his hand, squeezing.
“That’s why you’re my favorite brother,” I say with a grin meant only for him.
Ryder’s glare burns into me and I shoot him a confused look. Is he still mad his penis got hard? I meet his stare with a vicious one of my own. Rather than grow angrier, his cheeks redden and he drops his gaze to his plate.
“The wilderness isn’t safe for a girl,” Mom says, finality in her tone. “You know, Reed, how I feel about that.”
Dad’s lips thin out and something sinister flashes in his eyes. He glances my way and then shakes his head. “Your mother is right.”
“What?” I shriek. “That’s not fair! I can use the shotgun better than Rowdy or Ryder!”
Ronan squeezes my hand, offering his support, but it doesn’t help. Not when my family chooses to cage me all the time. It’s maddening. When my parents treat me like I’m made of glass, it’s times like this I crave a life outside of this one. Even marrying stupid Wild seems better.
I could be free.
Hot tears burn my eyes and my chin wobbles. I hate when I get so angry I cry. Defeated, I stare down at my blurred by tears fork on my plate, blinking until it sharpens into focus.
“I can protect her,” Ryder says. “And she has my knife.”
My head jerks up and I meet Ryder’s bright blue eyes. “It’s my knife and I can protect myself.”
He smirks and my stomach twists happily. “Whatever you say, Rae.”
Dawson hollers from his highchair, no longer interested in his baby food. Dad pulls him from his seat and into his arms. The baby tugs at his beard and slobbers all over him as he tries to kiss him. When I witness moments like this one, it makes my heart burn in an unfamiliar way.
Maybe I would like kids one day.
I’d prefer a husband over kids, though, if I had a choice.
“If Dad and Ryder are with her, she will be safe,” Ronan rushes out, voice steady with conviction that makes my heart trip over itself with gratitude. “I can stay here in case Mom needs me.”
Mom frowns at Ronan’s words but doesn’t argue. Dad studies Ronan for a minute before giving a clipped nod.
I release a harsh breath and break into a wide grin. A whole day of exploring the woods, tracking game, and shooting anything that moves is a thousand times better than dealing with crying kids.
The conversation moves on to Uncle Atticus and Aunt Eve coming to visit soon. I’m still smiling when I feel eyes on me. Ryder is gaping at me.
Do I have something on my face?
I scowl at him and swipe the cloth over my mouth. Nothing. Why is he looking at me like something’s wrong with me?
“What?” I mouth, heat prickling over my flesh.
His eyes drop to my lips and he shakes his head. I wait for an answer but get nothing. He clears his throat and then starts talking to Rowdy like nothing ever happened.
Something did happen, though.
Tomorrow, while hunting, I’m going to get it out of him.
I’ll stab him with my knife if I have to.
I wake to moans.
It’s not the first time I’ve heard the sounds coming from my parents’ bedroom, but it’s the first time I listened curiously.
Destiny breathes softly, deep in sleep, in her bed beside mine. Normally, when I hear the sounds my parents make, I ignore them and go back to bed.
Tonight is different.
I want answers.
Slowly, I creep out of bed so as not to wake my little sister. The wood floors are cold on my bare feet. I sneak out of the house sometimes late at night just to have a moment of quiet to myself. There’s an eastern lookout in our yard that faces the river. I like to climb and just sit, enjoying the chirping of crickets, the rushing of the river from beyond the cliff our house sits on, and the rustling of the leaves as the wind sweeps by. Because of these trips alone, I’ve learned to creep around almost silently.