Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 80176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Or at least I tried to.
Sometimes I wasn’t always so successful.
He started to pull up his shirt, keeping the left side that faced the diner down with one hand, and raised it until I could see the dark, purpling bruises on his chest.
There was a distinct purpled chain link mark on four spots across his chest. One right below his right nipple. One about an inch above it to the right. One directly in the center of his breast bone, and one more just below his collarbone.
“Ohhh,” I winced. “That looks terrible.”
He shrugged, then pulled his shirt down.
Too soon.
I hadn’t gotten my fill yet.
Dammit.
“When does your sister start treatment?”
I looked up to find his eyes on me, and I started fidgeting.
“Tomorrow,” I hesitated. “I think.”
“You think?”
I nodded. “Yes, the last I heard it was tomorrow. I haven’t heard anything to the contrary yet, but as of a week ago, at the doctor’s office, it’s then. They put the port in two days ago…that, however, she never asked me to go with her to. They, my brother-in-law and sister, just did it without telling me she was having the procedure done, and before I could get up there once I did know, she was already on her way home from the hospital.”
He stared at me for a few long seconds, his brows furrowed. “That sounds kind of shady.”
I shrugged. “They kind of pushed me out of their life once they found out that she has cancer. It’s almost as if…”
I couldn’t finish the sentence.
Saying it aloud almost made it true, and I didn’t want to think the worst of my sister.
“As if what?”
I should’ve known the big man sitting across from me wouldn’t let my evasion pass.
I cleared my throat.
“Almost as if they’re blaming me for what’s happening to her,” I said. “They haven’t outright said it yet, but I can read between the lines. The only time we have together is when I’m getting my nephew to take him to practice.”
“I’ve noticed that they hadn’t made one yet.”
Ever since that first time I’d seen Evander at practice, he’d shown up at nearly every one of them.
The only one he missed was the one two nights ago when I’d left him at my house finishing my fence.
“Why do you allow them to use you?”
“She’s not using me,” I immediately argued. “She’s just doing the best she can.”
He made an sound that clearly let it be known that he didn’t agree, but I chose to ignore it.
“I’m helping her because I love her.”
That shut him up.
“Don’t know about love. But I know about loyalty, and they wouldn’t show the same thoughtfulness if it were you in the same position.”
I didn’t have anything to say to that.
He was right.
Nobody. Not my brother, who barely even gave me the time of day, my father, who only called me because he needed something, or my sister, would ever offer me help if I needed it.
My sister, I could forgive.
My father, I could forgive.
My brother, I could also forgive.
Which was the problem.
I was a freakin’ pushover, and I couldn’t stop it.
“I’ve been asking around about you.”
My brows shot up.
“You have?”
He nodded.
“What did they have to say?”
His eyes felt like they were boring into my skin.
“Honestly?” he asked. “Not fuckin’ much. They, the boys at the office, had no clue who you were. And since I’m not liked by the rest of the town, I didn’t learn much of anything but what I overheard some of the people say at the farmer’s market today.”
“You go to the farmer’s market?” I asked in surprise.
I loved the farmer’s market!
He grinned. “Yeah, the shit grown locally is ten times better than the stuff you can get at the store…plus, there’s someone there that I wanted to see.”
“Who?”
His grin widened. “A guy named Don. He’s the honey guy that sits on the corner of the road right outside of town. He waves at everyone.”
I clapped my hands together. “I do know him! I buy honey from him every so often. I even bought a walking stick once.”
He winked.
“I bought a walking stick there once, too.” he explained. “Then, on the way home, my bike broke down. When I got off, I placed my helmet on the ground behind the back tire. When I was going back to the bike, I semi tripped on the walking stick and sort of stumbled. To keep myself from falling, I moved down into the ditch further than I intended.”
“Yeah?” I sat forward.
“And a car hit my bike going almost seventy miles an hour.”
My mouth dropped open.
“You’re saying that this walking stick tripped you, and you moved out of the way in time to avoid getting ran over?”
He nodded.
“Holy shit.”
He nodded again.
“From then on, every time I see that man, I stop to talk to him. He’s become one of my best friends.”