Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Her internal monologue shifted from concern for herself to concern over the man whose face wore an expression of devastation she recognized from personal experience. Whoever he was speaking to had wounded him deeply.
She should leave. Kelsie had no business standing there and eavesdropping on a conversation that had nothing to do with her by a man who wanted nothing to do with her, but her feet wouldn’t budge. They stayed rooted to the ground with as much strength as the trees around her that had withstood countless hurricanes.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” he said with so much venom an outsider would have assumed fury was his predominant emotion, but as one who knew pain, Kelsie heard the agony guiding the words.
He went back and forth with whoever was on the line. Kelsie tried to guess the context of the conversation but couldn’t make it out until he barked, “This isn’t about the abortion, Trina. It’s your body. This is about the thousands of lies. Even now, when you’re caught, you’re still lying.”
More words were shouted, probably on each end, but Kelsie didn’t hear them. A buzzing started in her ears as Ty’s words played over and over.
Oh my God.
It didn’t take a genius to realize she’d walked in on a very personal conversation she had no business listening to. She should go. Turn and tiptoe her way back to the shelter. This didn’t concern him, and Ty would probably be furious if he caught her eavesdropping.
His anguished yell rang out again.
Her heart fractured. God, the pain. She knew that pain of lies and betrayal. It hurt more than any physical agony.
“Fuck off, Trina!” he shouted before ripping the phone from his ear. “God-fucking-dammit.” He tossed the phone down and reached for a bottle. Not much liquid remained, but he guzzled a decent swallow before setting the bottle back down.
Kelsie watched, transfixed, as he closed his eyes and lounged back in the chair.
What was he thinking? Did the alcohol help to numb the pain? It had never worked for her. She’d long ago given up drowning her sorrows in alcohol.
Go to him.
With each passing second, the urge to reveal herself to him grew in strength. As though driven by an invisible force, she walked the final few feet through the woods toward him. He remained unaware of her presence. Could he have fallen asleep? That probably depended on how much alcohol he’d consumed.
Crack.
Keslie froze with her foot on the snapped twig that had alerted him to her presence.
Tyler shot up in his seat and reached for something on the ground. Kelsie’s heart leaped into her throat as she realized what he held.
A gun.
Oh God! Oh God! Would he shoot? Just aim at the woods and let the bullets fly? She didn’t dare move, breathe, or even blink.
“Show your face, motherfucker!” he yelled, the words echoing in the quiet night.
Kelsie trembled so hard the leaves rustled beneath her feet.
Tyler aimed the gun at the woods. If he took a shot right then, he’d hit her.
“I’m counting to five, then I’ll just start shooting. One…”
She swallowed. This was it. She could stay still and take the chance that his shot would miss, she could run and pray he didn’t give chase, or she could reveal herself.
“Two…”
Kelsie squeezed her eyes shut, sent a rapid-fire prayer to whoever was listening, and then walked five steps out into the clearing on shaking legs.
“Hey,” she said like the stunning conversationalist she was.
Tyler’s eyes grew wide, and his mouth opened. “Well, fuck me sideways.”
He stared, which oddly made her feel better. At least she wasn’t the only one stumped for intellectual words. After a few moments of heavy silence, he scowled.
“The fuck are you doing out here alone at night? It’s not safe.” As he spoke, his gaze went to her wrist. She’d removed the bandage earlier that day, but the stitches remained. Ty wouldn’t be able to see anything since the wound lay below her sweatshirt.
She tilted her head, studying him. Through the firelight, his glazed eyes spoke to how much he’d had to drink. “It’s not?” she asked with a small smile. “The ladies assure me at least a hundred times a day that this property is basically safer than a military stronghold.”
He grunted. “Touché. Do you want to sit?” He gestured toward the empty chairs around the fire.
If she were smart, she’d decline the offer and return to the shelter. But he already thought she was stupid, so she might as well prove him right. Besides, the heat emanating from the fire felt incredible, even on a warm night. The setup held a cozy view she couldn’t resist. “Sure.”
They sat in adjacent Adirondack chairs, neither speaking for long minutes. The last time they’d been in the same space, Ty acted like a royal ass. Did he see it that way? Or did he still harbor harsh criticism for her actions?