Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70445 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70445 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“Hey! Let her go!” Hands grab me, more hands grab Daisy. She’s struggling, shouting, crying, accusing me of every awful thing she can come up with, trying to hit me, trying to hurt me, and I’m trying to hurt her right back.
“You lying bitch, you made it all up, admit it, admit you’re a fucking lying bitch!”
“Daisy,” Uncle Lovett says loudly and finally yanks her away. I feel a piece of hair tear from my scalp and I yelp in pain. “Stop it now, Daisy, damn it.”
“Fucking bitch,” Daisy screams as Uncle Lovett pulls her away, and she keeps struggling, keeps shouting obscenities, insults, every horrible thing she can come up with, she spews it at me like bile.
Then War’s there, standing between Uncle Dudley and me. Dudley’s staring with hate in his eyes like he wants to pick up where Daisy left off, and I’m sitting on the ground breathing hard, my lip swollen and bleeding, my ears ringing and head pounding, and War’s glaring at my uncle.
“Go ahead,” War says like he’s ordering at a restaurant. “Come closer. Take your shot. You want to, I can see it.”
Uncle Dudley’s eyes flash malice. “This ain’t your fight, boy. You can leave whenever you want.”
“I could, but I like it here. So come on, old man. Come closer. Come try to hurt a girl while she’s down on the ground. That’s the kind of man you are, isn’t it?”
Uncle Dudley’s lips pull back into a disgusted sneer but he shakes his head and turns away. “Sick people,” he says and spits in the grass, walking after Uncle Lovett, who’s still pulling screaming Daisy away. “Sick fucking people.”
War watches him go until they disappear into the big house, Daisy’s screams silenced, and quiet falls over the ranch.
I sit there, head spinning, trying to make sense of what happened. Daisy called me a liar, refused to admit I might’ve been telling the truth, and attacked me—and I didn’t back down. Sure, I panicked at first, but I hit her back, and it felt good, it felt really good to stand up for myself.
Even if I basically lost.
“You okay?” War’s expression is clouded. He holds out a hand and I let him help me up.
“I’m fine. I haven’t been in a fight since—” I shrug and dab two fingers against my split lip. “Not since Rosie died.”
“You got a few good hits in there,” War says, softening a bit. “But Daisy kicked your ass.”
“Thanks, I’m aware. No thanks to you.” I push away from him and stagger a few paces toward the tower. “I think I need to be alone for a while.” I turn my back on him, unable to look into his handsome eyes right now. I can only guess at what he’s thinking after what he just heard.
“You sure about that?” he asks. “We don’t have to talk, but you also don’t have to be alone.”
“I’m fine. Just go back to your room or something and just—” I shake my head, trembling as I open the door to the tower and step back inside. “I’m fine.”
I climb the stairs and he doesn’t follow. When I reach the top, I look out the window and spot him sitting at a nearby picnic table, watching the door like a dog guarding its master. I sink back into the shag carpet and finally let myself cry, tears streaming down my face, mingling with my bloody mouth.
Chapter 15
War
Melody stays locked in the tower for the rest of the day and I can’t blame her for it, not after that ugly brawl. It only lasted seconds, and I couldn’t get to her fast enough to stop it, but I saw the pain in her eyes after it was done. Nothing hurts like family, and this family seems dead set on hurting each other as much as humanly possible.
I’m tempted to scale those stairs and push my way into the top room, but I decide she’s better off left alone.
Around dinnertime, a few cars leave the main house, and I go wandering back, looking around for those cowardly shithead uncles or any of her cousins, but the place is empty.
Which provides a man like me with an opportunity.
The thing about doing what I do is I developed some flexible morals over the years. I’ve seen the nasty side of people and got a glimpse at what families are capable of when they’re desperate and angry and willing to go as far as it takes to get what they want, and I’ve learned that there are no lines when it comes to winning. Everything for me is moral gray, there’s no black and white. Melody hasn’t figured that out yet, but fortunately, she’s got me.
Something about Daisy’s story didn’t ring true to me. I keep thinking about what she said about Colton Leader as I drift through the big house, looking like I’m just out for an evening stroll and taking a tour. I poke my head in room after room, moving from wing to wing. I come across some living spaces, some bedrooms, and I poke around where it seems interesting, but I keep it moving. I keep it casual. And I keep on thinking.