Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
I feel Binx tense beside me, but there’s no time to ask about her history with Daria before the woman herself is stomping across the bar.
“You,” Daria says, her jaw clenching. “You have some fucking balls. Showing your face on my side of town after what your brother did to my sister.”
Binx lifts her hands into the air. “I’m not a part of that, Daria. You stay over there, and I’ll stay over here, and we can both have a nice night.”
“Nah, I don’t think so,” Daria snaps, ignoring Bettie’s suggestion that she let it go. “I don’t have nice nights anymore, not since your piece of shit brother broke my sister’s heart. Darcy still cries herself to sleep almost every night, over a year later. Did you know that?”
I press a hand to my cramped stomach, guilt making my insides squirm.
“It was just a breakup, Daria. They happen all the time,” Binx says. “And I know Wesley was nice about it. Wes is always nice. It’s like…his thing.”
Daria snorts. “You don’t know jack shit about your brother, do you?”
“Language,” Bettie says, but Daria ignores her.
She leans in, stretching across my lap to get closer to Binx as she seethes, “Your brother is a sick fuck, Beatrice McGuire. He’s a pervert who scared the shit out of my sister, then broke up with her when she wouldn’t get nasty with him in bed.”
My throat tightens until I’m pretty sure I’m going to choke on my tongue. Yes, Wes is bossy in bed, but he isn’t a pervert. At least not in my experience.
“My name is Binx,” Binx murmurs, her voice cool enough to chill a martini glass. “And I’m not going to talk about this with you, Daria. I told you that the last time you tried to start something. Now, leave us alone.”
Daria cuts a sharp glance my way, her face far too close for comfort. My chin slides into my neck as I lean back on my stool, putting some much-needed distance between us. “Who’s this? Your lesbian lover? You like ‘em old, don’t you, gaywad?”
“That’s enough,” Bettie says, as Binx shouts, “Shut up, Daria. Jesus. You’re thirty-four, for fuck’s sake. Tessa’s only a few years older.”
Before I can recover from the shock of being call “old” right to my face, Daria shoots back with an ugly smile, “A few years, my ass, Beatrice.” To me, she adds, “You should bail while you can, Wrinkles. Fucking a McGuire’s a good way to catch the clap.”
“I’d like some space, please,” I say, a faint tremble in my voice.
But Daria only leans closer. “Or what? You’re going to sit on me with that wide ass of yours?”
Binx comes off her stool beside me. “Seriously, Daria, I’m going to—”
“You’re going to what?” She sneers the words straight into my face, not sparing Binx a second glance. “Going to beat me up for talking trash to your fat old girlfriend?”
“I may be fat and old,” I hear myself saying, the words ripped from some previously untapped rage-center in my core. “But Wesley didn’t seem to mind. And I thought he was great in bed. Not sure what your sister was complaining about.”
Daria’s jaw drops, her shock sending a zing of satisfaction through me, followed closely by a fresh wave of fear as she hisses, “You fucking bitch. I’m going to end you.”
Binx sucks in a breath and Daria pulls back a fist, but before any blows can land, Freya comes sailing over my shoulder. One moment, she’s a streak of gray and white in my peripheral vision, the next, she’s hanging from Daria’s arm, thrashing and wriggling, throwing my bully off-balance.
“Car. Now!” Binx shouts, grabbing Freya’s leash from the bar and pressing it into my hands. “Go!”
“Come on, Freya,” I call out as I hurry past Daria. “Come on, girl!” I whistle and my fierce defender comes running, bounding across the floor like a dragon kite in the wind before jumping into my arms.
I’m almost to the exit, with Binx hot on my heels, when the first glass smashes against the wall. Squealing and ducking the flying shards, I wrench the door open and spill out into the dark.
Thanking the universe for my piece of shit Jetta’s broken locks, I tumble into the car, tossing Freya into the back and jamming the key into the ignition. By the time Binx jumps in beside me, the engine is already humming. All I have to do is jam the car into reverse and floor it, peeling out seconds before Daria leaps on the hood.
“Drive, drive, drive!” Binx shouts when I hesitate, afraid Daria might try to throw herself in front of the car again.
I put the pedal to the metal again, launching us onto the road with a spray of gravel.
We drive in silence, nothing but the sound of our swiftly indrawn breath until Binx finally says, “Well, well, Miss T. What other secrets are you hiding in that big, beautiful hair of yours?”