Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 74078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Feeling lost and brokenhearted, I curl on my side in the empty closet. I don’t realize I cried myself to sleep until I’m being nudged.
Only a small sliver of light fills the closet, and his body blocks most of that.
My face is dry, but that doesn’t stop him from sweeping his fingers along my cheek as if he knows what I was doing before I fell asleep.
He backs up, allowing me to get to my feet, but he doesn’t move very far away.
“I’m sorry for leading you on,” I tell him, keeping my eyes trained on the floor as I cross the room, needing some distance from him. “I’m no longer in the mood for that sort of thing.”
Instead of arguing, he climbs into the damn bed and holds his arms out, an offer of comfort I don’t think I’ll survive.
“I’m not going to have sex with you,” I say, even though there’s a part of me that thinks it may be the best idea. At least I’d be able to turn off the other voices in my head for a little while.
“Hush,” he tells me as I kick off my shoes and climb into the bed.
Sleeping in jeans probably won’t be the most comfortable, but stripping down right now would only complicate things further.
“I shouldn’t be leaning on you for personal shit,” I mutter as I scoot back against him.
Part of me wants to press my cheek to his chest and allow the rhythm of his heart to lull me into a false sense of security, but I don’t know if I’d be strong enough to pull away when the time came.
I’m not one who’s exactly used to letting myself be the vulnerable one.
“I like being needed,” he says, his voice rumbling through my back, the warmth of his breath on my neck.
A wave of chills rushes down my body when he wraps his arm around me, pulling me tighter against his chest.
“This is so unprofessional,” I whisper, my eyes refusing to close.
“This has nothing to do with your job,” he says. “I waited to come in here until after midnight. Your shift is over. Just relax.”
I huff a humorless laugh, as if the clock determines when and what we could do.
With several deep breaths, I finally allow my eyes to flutter closed, but a second later, I jerk awake, fresh tears once again on my cheeks.
I try to hold onto the flash of a dream, but each breath pulls it away from me.
“Who’s Ryder?”
I freeze, realizing Brent is still behind me, his arm still locked around my waist.
I shake my head, the guilt keeping me from telling him what he wants to know.
What kind of mother fucks up so badly that she loses her own child?
Realistically, I know my mom and Travis are responsible, but I still can’t get past the fact that I left Ryder with her. I think deep down I knew this was a possibility, especially after my mom voiced her opinion about Travis more than once.
I let that false sense of security sink inside, thinking that Travis didn’t give a shit about Ryder while we were all under the same roof, why should he care about him after we left? If anything, the freedom us not being in his house brought should’ve made him ecstatic.
“My dog that died,” I lie, not wanting to ruin Brent’s impression of me.
Guilt and judgment keep my lips closed after that, despite the sobs racking my body.
He holds me tighter, his calm voice washing over me.
I don’t deserve his kindness, but I’m not strong enough to keep from soaking it all in, letting it fortify me.
The truth will come out eventually. It always does. I’ll deserve his hatred then. Right now, I can’t even stomach the thought of it.
Chapter 24
Bishop
I have run her lie through my head a billion times since I woke up to her gone this morning.
I knew she had work today. I don’t know if that woman ever has two days off in a row. Just thinking of her working so much exhausts me.
I wasn’t surprised to wake up alone in her bed this morning. What did surprise me was that I didn’t stir when she climbed out or when she got dressed and left the room. The hall bathroom still had condensation clinging to the mirror when I woke up, telling me I missed her showering, too.
It’s proof that I’m still not even close to being a hundred percent. I’ve always been a light sleeper. It’s one of those imperative things required for the job I did as a Marine, but I have to wonder how many times she mumbled the name Ryder before it stirred me awake.
She claimed it was a lost pet, but I know better. I figure maybe it’s an ex, and her recent emergency and her quickness to agree to staying here had something to do with a man.