Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 76609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
“I’m in the kitchen,” I called loudly. “And stop calling me Ridley! My name is fucking Aspen! Use it!”
I hated being called Ridley. By him, most of all.
My name was Aspen Ridley Crew, and ever since I could remember, he’d called me Ridley. I don’t know why, and I could never get him to tell me. Yet, it was incredibly annoying. No one called me Ridley. I didn’t even like the name Ridley.
“What the fuck are you doing in your underwear?” Downy snapped the moment he saw me.
“Well,” I gestured to the room and people around me. “I was by myself up until about thirty seconds ago, so I don’t know why I wouldn’t be in my underwear if I was in my own goddamned house!”
Downy frowned. “Why are you so mad at me?”
I narrowed my eyes.
“Gee, I don’t know,” I drawled. “How about you don’t ever stop by? Or how about the fact that you only come by when you need something, or I’m potentially burning to death?”
His eyes narrowed.
“And you’re half the reason I’m stuck in this hell hole in the first place,” I muttered darkly, pushing in between him and my new neighbor. “Go home.”
Downy followed me.
“Your ass is hanging out of those,” he muttered. “And why can’t you ever do anything right?” he asked. “I tried really hard to only get you house arrest. Do you know what could have happened for assaulting a police officer?” He continued. “You could’ve gone to jail. Not to mention the man’s my friend. How does it look to have your sister beat the shit out of your friend?”
I turned around and stared at him incredulously.
“You got the fact that Danny cheated on me, right?” I asked.
He frowned.
“He was with a female officer, and they weren’t fucking. They were working,” he countered.
I laughed then.
“Yeah,” I said. “That female officer was fucking my fiancé. On duty. What would you have done if you’d walked up on Memphis fucking Nico?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “First of all, Nico has a wife. Second of all, don’t bring my wife into this. She would never cheat on me. She’s too good of a woman to do so. You must’ve done something…”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” I slammed the bedroom door in his face.
I immediately ran to the bed and buried my face into the pillows.
Nobody believed me.
It was the same thing, over and over again, and it was beginning to really get to me.
It hadn’t been my fault that he’d cheated. I’d done everything right.
I’d been a fucking awesome girlfriend.
I’d taken his uniforms to and from the dry cleaners.
I’d visited him at work.
I’d brought him dinner to work, which had been what I was doing the night I found him with his hands down the back of his partner’s pants and his mouth latched onto her breast.
My first thought had been ‘had he forgotten he’d asked me to bring him dinner?’
Then it’d quickly changed into anger. Pure, white hot rage.
I’d been so mad, I couldn’t even see straight.
I’d walked back to his truck, which I’d borrowed because I’d taken it to get the oil changed while he was at work.
Then I’d purposefully driven his truck off the road, slamming it into the nearest brick wall I could find, which happened to be the sign that sat in front of the police station.
Before it’d read ‘Kilgore Police Department.’ Now it just read ‘gore.’
Once I’d shaken myself from my stupor of being in a wreck, I’d gotten out of the car and reached for the tire iron that Danny kept in the back for emergency purposes. Then proceeded to take the tire iron to the rest of Danny’s truck that hadn’t been damaged in the accident.
By the time I’d rounded the truck to the other side and finished off with breaking the glass of the passenger side window, I’d caught the attention of most of the police department.
They’d all stared at me in shock, including my brother.
Then Danny had showed up and completely lost his shit.
So I’d done the only thing I could think of doing, which had been to throw the tire iron at him to keep him from beating the crap out of me.
It’d beamed him right on the forehead, and he’d gone down like a sack of potatoes in front of about ten cops and even more bystanders.
His partner, the bitch who I’d cooked dinner for and let borrow my best dress to go out on a date with a man whose name she refused to tell me.
“God,” I moaned. “My life sucks.”
Downy had done the best that he could under the circumstances.
Danny was well liked throughout the department, and I’d gone and beaten the crap out of his truck.
I’d brought it all upon myself, and I didn’t have anyone to complain to.