Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90019 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90019 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
I’d barely gotten to the living room entrance before hands were gripping me once again, halting my movement.
“What the hell did you take?” Bram asked again as I tried to pull away.
He gave me a little shake and jerked me around to face him, and all of my earlier bravado vanished in an instant.
“I didn’t take anything,” I whispered hoarsely, lifting my chin as I slapped at his hands.
“You think you’re the first kid to pull this shit?” he asked harshly through clenched teeth. “My parents took you in, buy you shit, feed you—and you steal from them?”
“I didn’t fucking take anything!” I repeated, swallowing hard.
I froze completely as one of Bram’s hands dropped from my shoulder and slid down the front of my stomach, sliding around the edge of my hip and across my back. I didn’t move away when he dropped to his knees and lifted up each pant leg to check the inside of my ratty dollar store socks, and I barely breathed as he wiggled his fingers into the front pockets of my jeans and then the back pockets.
When his hands moved back up, my eyesight began to grow hazy from lack of oxygen, and just as his palm slid down between my breasts, I took in a large gasp of air that turned into a loud sob.
“Anita?” Bram asked in confusion, dropping his hands as he took a frantic step backward, his hands in the air.
“I told you I didn’t take anything,” I murmured, staring at him through tear-blurred eyes. “I told you.”
“I’m sorry. I—you were in my parents’ room,” he stuttered, his expression softer than I’d ever seen it before.
I wiped my face with the long sleeves of my T-shirt and moved backward, watching him closely for any indication that he would try and stop me. Then, when I’d finally gotten my breathing under control, I spoke. “If you ever touch me again, I’ll kill you.”
I turned and ran toward my room, never slowing even though I couldn’t hear him following me.
Later, we pretended that nothing happened. He didn’t rat me out, and I didn’t tell his parents that he’d felt me up. Our silence wasn’t a truce though; it was battle lines clearly drawn.
Chapter 1
Abraham
Fourteen years later
You have five grandbabies, Mom. Pretend a couple of those are mine,” I said with a kiss to the side of my mom’s head.
“It doesn’t work that way,” she said in frustration, pinching me lightly on the side as she moved past me into the kitchen.
We’d been having the same conversation for the past five years, and my answer had never changed. I didn’t want kids. It’s not like I didn’t love my nieces and nephews—I did. I just didn’t want the responsibility of having one of my own. I was happy being the uncle who bought cool-as-hell Christmas presents and took the kids fishing when I felt like it—then sending them home with their parents.
“Why do you keep asking?” a voice called out from the back door, making my jaw clench. “You know Bram will never love anyone as much as he loves himself.”
“Anita,” Mom scolded with a sour look.
“Interesting, coming from you,” I murmured, bracing myself as I glanced at the slender woman walking into the room.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Anita asked, dropping a bag of groceries hard on the table.
“Don’t see any kids pulling on your skirts,” I snapped back.
Anita’s eyes grew wide with hurt for only a moment. “I’m not wearing a skirt,” she hissed stupidly, spinning on her heel and almost running out of the kitchen.
I watched her leave, then glanced at my mom in confusion. What the fuck?
“Christ, Abraham,” my mom said, shaking her head as she pushed past me. “I don’t understand why the two of you can’t just ignore each other.”
I stood there like an idiot for a minute, then followed them toward the living room, stopping just on the other side of the wall as I heard my mom’s voice.
“You okay?” Mom asked.
A watery chuckle answered her.
“You know he was just—”
“I don’t expect anything less, Mom. I’m fine,” Anita choked out. I leaned hard against the wall and closed my eyes. Shit. I wasn’t sure what was wrong, but I knew she’d been crying. Her voice was normally husky—I’d pointed out more than once that she’d make a good phone sex operator—but it was magnified by a thousand as she brushed off my mom.
“If you would—” my mom said, her words cutting off as Ani spoke.
“I’m fine. Promise.”
Before I could move from my spot, Anita was stepping out of the living room, and the front door was opening wide to show my cousin Trevor slipping inside.
“Trev!” Anita yelled, running toward him.
“Hey,” he said on a grunt as Ani jumped at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.