Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 117820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
I really hope he doesn’t say anything to anyone.
“You ready?” Mee-maw calls up the stairs.
“Coming,” I return and race down towards her.
For all my mee-maw’s faults she is a beautiful woman just like my momma, it’s just a shame they both have sour-ass-souls. I smile at her standing at the bottom of the stairs, bending slightly to slip on her Sunday heels. I stuff my feet into a pair of black flats and follow her out of the house, taking her arm when she offers it to me.
We drive while listening to Christian music, as is Mee-maw’s usual. I bop my head, it’s a good tune, not what I enjoy these days but it’s still decent enough all the same.
I remember back when me and Poppy were young, we used to pretend we were the most famous Christian Country Rock singers in the world. We’d get dressed up and write our own terrible music about loving Jesus and the Almighty.
I smile fondly at the memory of it.
Imogen: Thinking of you. <3
Poppy: Miss you. I need to see you soon. <3
Imogen: It has been forever. How are you holding up?
Poppy: Better. I’ve got a date tonight with Bradley Tatum.
Imogen: Damn girl, he fine!
Poppy: Right?
Imogen: You nervous?
Poppy: Don’t think I’m ready to move on. I don’t want to get hurt again.
Imogen: I bet it’s so hard but not every guy is like my brother. And I’m always here for you. Remember that.
It’s so hard to admit that my brother is a bad guy because to me he has always been somebody I admired and letting the reality sink in just hurts so bad.
Poppy: I know. How is he?
Imogen: He’ll get his shit straight, don’t worry about him.
Poppy: I’ll always worry about him.
Imogen: Love sucks.
I don’t tell her that my love with Kane might have produced a baby because she doesn’t need my shit weighing her down and until I know for sure, I’m not telling anybody. No use getting Kane pissed at me until I know definitely that I fucked up with my pill.
I’m not the most responsible. I kept forgetting. I should have gotten something a bit more permanent but it’s hard getting birth control without Mee-maw finding out. There isn’t a Planned Parenthood around here. Now I really wish I’d made the three-hour journey.
Kane: Church done yet?
Imogen: Not yet. Miss me?
Kane: My dick is so hard. Don’t know why. Don’t care why. Need you to deal with it.
Imogen: You sure know how to woo a girl.
Can I have sex while pregnant? Is that possible? My heart is hammering in my chest at the possibility that I might be knocked up. This sucks so hard. I never thought it would happen, I’m so naïve.
Before, not having sex with Kane was more about control and because I didn’t want to reward him for his bad behavior. But now it’s all about my own safety and the safety of the unborn in my stomach. I don’t know if it’s there but I’m not taking any chances.
“Put your phone away,” Mee-maw snaps. “Is it so hard for you to spend quality time with me without looking at that screen?”
I don’t answer because that question feels like entrapment and the honest answer will probably get me beaten.
26 years old
“Okay, let me wrap my head around this.” He legitimately grips his head and stares at me, his incredible lips flat, his tempting eyes wary. “You didn’t leave me by choice, you were kidnapped?” Then he laughs like I’m hilarious. “So why didn’t anybody but me report you missin’? Why did nobody ask for you? Why didn’t your mee-maw do anything?”
I open my mouth to answer all his questions but he raises his hand.
“All you do is lie. How can I believe a word you say?”
This time I lift a shoulder. “Clearly you’ve made up your mind, Kane.” I brush past him, feeling irritated and bitter that he could laugh at my pain and act as though I’m not being honest when I am. Or at least I’m trying to be. “I’m going to get dressed.”
He doesn’t follow for a moment but when I reach my bedroom his chest hits my back and his hand snakes around my waist.
“What’s your name now?” he asks softly. “What does everybody call you?”
“Still Immy, but my surname is Messer.”
“And why did you change your name?”
“I was tryna get to that part Kane but you’re not interested in listening.”
He holds me so tight I can’t breathe. “Fuck you. I’m just not interested in listening to more of your lies.”
“That’s fine.”
“You said you were pregnant but didn’t have an abortion.” He squeezes me again. “So must mean you had the kid, so where is it? Why the fuck wouldn’t you tell me?”
“I was gettin’ to that too.”
He pulls away and mutters a curse. “Naw… I’m gonna need more than just your words, Imogen. I need proof.”