Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“Tommy came in his truck. You ride home with him, okay?” He pointed at my brother, who was waving me forward.
I nodded once quickly, my teeth starting to chatter.
“Go.”
Then he was sprinting to the opposite side of the parking lot where his bike was the only one left.
I watched only long enough to see him start it, and then the wind started to howl again, forcing me to get into my brother’s truck or risk dying from exposure.
The entire drive home I worried about him, even when I saw him and the other two men with him pull off under an overpass to block themselves from the rain.
***
The ride to Jessie’s place was slow, and by the time Tommy dropped me off after having done the same thing for Imogen and Naomi, I was damn near exhausted.
I trudged up to the front steps, and I was surprised to find the door already unlocked.
“Hey,” I said, startling when Linc yanked the door open for me.
He grinned.
“You look like a drowned cat,” he informed me.
I sidestepped him and bent down to pick up Achilles before turning to the child of the man I loved.
Linc read my expression, and the smile on his face dimmed.
I’d been thinking for well over an hour, and I didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know what would be the right way to approach what was on my mind.
Which was why I trudged right in, and I didn’t beat around the bush.
Jessie would’ve been proud of me.
“I need you to do me a favor,” I said to Linc. “I’m going to ask you this, and I want you to tell me the complete, honest to God’s truth. And, if you’re ready to share anything else with me, I’d be willing to listen.”
Linc looked up at me in surprise, his eyes wary.
“Yeah?”
I licked my lips nervously. “Did your mom tell you to throw the game?”
I’d surprised him. The look of shock written all over his face was enough to confirm the fact without him actually having to say the words. He didn’t realize that anyone knew, that was for sure.
“H-how…”
“Your mother made a comment,” I said. “Would you like to explain it better to me before I tell your dad?”
Linc’s jaw clenched.
“Do you have to?”
I nodded.
I did. He knew it. I knew it.
This relationship between me and Jessie was too new to not share something this important.
“I have to,” I murmured, taking a seat on the couch. “If I don’t, then this’ll always be sitting between us.”
He looked away, absently staring at the window while I assumed he tried to collect his thoughts.
“My mom’s a bitch.”
I didn’t say anything. There was nothing I could say to that. She was and always would be.
“I never wanted to see her.”
My brows rose at that, and I gestured to the couch. “Come sit down and tell me everything.”
“I’d need a beer to tell you everything,” he muttered under his breath.
So that was how I started getting Jessie’s sixteen-year-old son drunk.
Chapter 19
Buying one when you really want two.
-Gun control
Jessie
I parked my bike in the driveway next to Ellen’s piece of shit car, and idly wondered if she’d notice if I traded it in for a new one.
Of course, I knew she would notice. What I wanted to know was if she’d give me a hard time about it or if she’d just let me do it. I was hoping she’d just let me do it. Eventually, I would wear her down, but if she went down without a fight it’d be safer for her.
A peal of laughter had me looking up at the house, and despite being chilled to the bone and soaked to the skin, I found a smile on my face as I heard my son’s laughter paired with Ellen’s giggles.
I was happy that the two of them got along so well. Of course, I expected it’d happen. Linc was a good kid, and he genuinely liked everyone. Ellen was the exact same way, and I never thought that they wouldn’t treat each other with kindness.
Once I had my bike situated, I jogged up to the front door and opened it, coming to a halt in the doorway when I saw my son with a beer in his hand.
My brows rose as I took in the scene.
Ellen was curled up on the couch, her head was half hanging off of it, and she had a beer in her hand that was hanging precariously.
The not-a-dog was biting her hair from where he was lying on the floor next to the couch, and Ellen wasn’t paying enough attention. Either that or she plain didn’t care.
He was staring up at the ceiling with a smile a mile wide stretched across his face. He was laughing deeply about something, and it was only when I heard Ellen say, “And she called me a selfish bitch when you were two. She hated that I was feeding you cake, when you so obviously were allergic to cake. Your father,” she wiped tears from her eyes with the bottom of the beer bottle. “He looked at her and told her she was ‘fuckin’ fucked in the head’ if she thought you were allergic to cake.”