Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 60447 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60447 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Hand trembling, my father holds the knife, his body rising and falling with every ragged pant as he fights the urge to plunge that blade into my flesh. I don’t flinch, don’t move, don’t show a single ounce of fear.
“Daddy,” Clara cries again. “Leave him alone.”
Anything for his little angel, he releases me, but not before he hisses out a warning. “She won’t be around to protect you forever, and one day, boy, you’ll open your mouth for the last time.”
Swiping my hand across the back of my mouth, I smirk. “I can’t wait.”
With that, I glance at my sister once more.
Gone is the fear on her face, and back is the blank stare she holds so well. She’ll be the death of me one day, I’m sure of it. She knows I’ll take care of her, but one day, even I’m going to get tired of her games. One day, I’m going to throw her out into this world on her own and she’ll find out very quickly just how far her manipulation won’t get her.
But by then, it will no longer be my problem.
By then, I’ll be free.
1
Addison
“Well, I’ll be damned. Addison. That’s a face I never thought I’d see again.”
Offering a smile, I stare at the one person I trusted growing up in this hell hole. Officer Charlie Kerry. He came to my rescue so many times, and when my mother died, he was the one I called. I never got to say goodbye to him, because the moment the phone call ended, I ran, and I have never looked back.
Back then, Charlie was young, maybe early twenties and was just starting out his career. Now, he has grown more mature, and no longer looks like a young man, but instead, a strong, rugged, masculine one. His once short dark hair is now longer, sitting messily atop his head. His eyes are the same piercing blue, and now he has a beard that gives him an edge he never had before.
He's incredibly attractive, and by adding the fact that he is a police officer to the mix, I’m certain he has no problem when it comes to the ladies.
Once, what seems like forever ago, he was the only person in the world I could trust. He helped me out more times than I can count, when my mother would overdose or someone dangerous would come to my house. He was my saving grace, and a pang of guilt grips my chest knowing I never made contact again with him after I left. I owed him, at the very least, a goodbye.
Maybe a thank you.
“You’re all grown up now, Charlie,” I say, stepping toward him.
He wraps me in a familiar hug, only now he’s bigger, bulkier and stronger. His arms settle around me, and I rest my head on his chest, breathing him in. I don’t know where I’d be without him, and I’m certain I never would have gotten out of this town if it weren’t for the way he believed in me.
Stepping back, he looks down at me. “You look good, kid. Grown up. Strong.”
Calling me kid is wildly hilarious, considering he can’t be any more than ten or so years older than me. Still, in his eyes, I guess I’ll always be the girl he took care of when nobody else did.
“I’ve changed,” I say, smiling. “I have a daughter now.”
His brows shoot up. “No way?”
Pulling out my phone, I show him a picture of Skye. He stares down, then looks at me with pride and happiness in his expression. “Well, I’ll be damned. She’s perfect, kid. Do I dare ask what kind of man you are with? Do I need to come down there?”
Laughing, I tuck my phone away. “Well, you probably wouldn’t like him, but I promise he’s good to me.”
Narrowing his eyes, Charlie crosses his arms. “Go on.”
“He’s a ... uh ... biker.”
Charlie’s brows shoot up. “Tell me you’re joking?”
“I promise you he’s protected me in ways I can’t explain. He’s a good man.”
Even if we’re not talking right now.
Charlie purses his lips, but he doesn’t argue further. I know how cops feel about bikers, so there is probably very little I can do to change his mind on the matter. I’m best just letting it go.
“So that’s where you went when you left town without even saying goodbye?”
I hold his gaze, and something unspoken rushes between us.
I know that he knows I could have saved my mother but I chose not to. He must know. Yet he made sure it never came back to haunt me.
“You know I had to leave,” I whisper. “After what happened ...”
“Your mother died of an overdose; it wasn’t on you.”
There is something in his expression that tells me he knows, and he has chosen to let the world think there was nothing that could be done to save her. Deep down, we both know I could have called for help. I didn’t. I no longer carry the guilt of that, but I don’t think I’ll ever completely forgive myself.