Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“Rachel.” Jett sighs as he lets go of my arms. “Raven can eat with us.” He walks over to grab his suit jacket.
“Why would she? That would be… uncomfortable.” She slithers over to him as he looks down at her. Bile rises in my throat. Watching him, with her, is making me physically ill. What can he possibly see in her? Because all I see is a manipulative, hateful person.
“I’m not feeling well,” I announce, watching my mom smile up at him, then glance over at me, eyes narrowed. My hand is tingling. Jesus, for a second I actually saw myself slapping and clawing at her fake face.
“Let’s go. We’re late.” He buttons his suit, frowning at me.
“I really don’t feel well at all.” I was wrong. I can’t be near him right now. It hurts too much.
I need to think, regroup, get a plan, because this one has matured into a situation my heart can’t seem to handle.
Not after last night.
“Oh dear.” She cocks her head at me. “Jett, Raven should stay home today. If she has something, you don’t want her giving it to everyone.”
I barely hear my mom’s voice as I stare at Jett. His beautiful blue eyes search my face, and for a split second he looks like he might actually touch me. Instead, he nods.
“Get some rest. You’re pale.” He turns to leave.
I don’t wait to hear anything more, not from him, or my mom. I take off my pumps and dart up the stairs, slamming my door and locking it. In a moment of almost paranoid terror, I rush over to the giant leather chair my creepy mother was sitting on and push it in front of the door.
“What are you doing?” I drop into it, trying to catch my breath as my phone starts ringing.
“Shit.” I reach for my handbag, praying it’s Cher, but deep inside I know it’s not.
“Breathe, Raven.” I shouldn’t answer this phone call, should ignore all calls from him, but it’s like a compulsion. I need him, or at least that’s what it feels like right now.
“What?” My voice sounds like I’m ready to cry, which I am, but he certainly doesn’t need to know that.
“What’s wrong with you?” His voice is so strong, powerful. I close my eyes, feeling the tears already trickling down.
“I… just don’t feel well,” I whisper.
“You’ve been taking your birth control, right?” His voice, which only seconds ago seemed magical, makes my eyes bolt wide open.
“I never said I was on the pill.” And I know I haven’t. I’ve been surprised he never once questioned me about any sort of birth control. Actually, I figured he’d had a vasectomy. Clearly not.
“Do you think I’d come inside you if I didn’t know you were on birth control? I don’t want kids. I always wrap it up.” Again, his voice is so calm, in control, I almost want to lie and say I haven’t been taking it just to hear some sort of emotion rather than his sanctimonious tone.
“What are you talking about?” I’m two seconds from losing it. “How could you know that I’m on the pill?” I demand, covering my mouth with my hand. My leg starts to bounce.
“I have all your medical records.”
“So you spied on me?” Though I’m tempted to scream, or lose it, I keep my voice steady.
“Of course,” he says like it’s no big deal.
And I start laughing. It’s either that or break down and sob.
“Why?”
“You know why.” His voice is calm, almost soothing. It’s how he always wins. He stays calm, controlled, no surprises.
I shake my head and stare out the window. I’m completely in over my head with a man who seems to have zero conscience. Strike that. I’m in love with him, even knowing exactly what he is: an asshole.
What’s wrong with me?
Shaking my head, I close my eyes and speak slowly. “Jett, I’m not sick because I’m pregnant… I’m in love with you.”
There, I did it.
It’s out there, and I don’t regret it. If anything, his silence actually makes me smile. Slumping back in the large chair, I wait as the seconds tick by.
“Did you hear me? I’m in love with you, and seeing you with my mom makes me sick. I want to throw up, probably will. Thinking about you, and how you feel when you’re inside me, and knowing you’re doing that with her…”
“I’m not.” His deep voice makes me sit up.
I try to calm my racing heart, but can’t breathe. Holy shit, this is it. He’s going to say the words I need to hear.
“We will talk about this later.” His voice is clipped, almost annoyed sounding.
“That’s all you’re going to say? I’m not? I’m not what?” I demand, because I’ve come this far, so why stop now?
“I’m not discussing this on the phone.” His voice is full of warning.