Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
When my family vacationed, it was on yachts or in hotel rooms that were as big as this whole motel. I always knew we lived a very lush life. I just didn’t know how different it really was. It’s all been a bit jarring.
I’ve never had to think or worry about money before. I had a card, and I slid it whenever I needed or wanted something. That was it. That’s all in the past now. I left all that behind and took what cash I could get together quickly. I realized pretty fast how easily money goes.
I have no regrets leaving that life behind. With all that money came so much control. I thought I was going to be free when I came home from college. Oh, how wrong I’d been. My parents had their own plan for me. They tossed me back in time, saying they had arranged a marriage for me.
Like what? Is that still a thing?
It most definitely is.
I spent a month planning a wedding that I was trying to get out of the whole time. When I realized that wasn’t happening, I ran. There was no freakin’ way I was marrying Bentley Bloomberg.
He has always given me the creeps. A chill runs through me thinking about him. His family was always at big events we’d all have to attend. Bentley has a major staring problem. He can be handsy too.
I thought for a while it was just me, but whispers had spread through the girls in the inner circle about him. Bentley didn’t like being told no. I knew without a doubt that I would be miserable and lose myself if I married that man.
Not wanting to think about him anymore, I head into the bathroom to get ready for my shift. Colt pays me cash plus my tips. I never had a job before this. It was frowned upon in my family. So I was shocked when he hired me on the spot, but he said something about needing something new and shiny around.
I pull my hair out of the messy bun on top of my head and shake it out before I put on some mascara and my red lipstick. My mother hates it. Anytime I put it on, she’d make me remove it, saying it made me look low class. I hated that she thought that money made her better than everyone else. I promised myself that I would never be like that.
My uniform is okay. I’d only packed a few pairs of jeans when I took off. I cut them into shorts. Cole gave me a black shirt with the bar's name on it. It feels like a second skin these days. The V cuts deep. It’s the most skin I’ve ever shown in public, unless you count the beach, and those were always private.
The alarm for my glucose monitor goes off. I check my phone, and my stomach tightens when I see my numbers. Eating healthy isn’t easy when you live in a motel room. I open the cooler I bought to keep my insulin pens in. Injecting one, I count how many I have left. I let the lid fall closed. Out of sight, out of mind.
“We’ll figure it out,” I tell myself. Tigger meows, calling me on my bullcrap.
3
JACKSON
My sister lets out a high-pitched scream when she sees me. She rushes over, launching herself at me. “What are you doing here?”
I give her a tight hug. A pang of guilt tugs at me. I should come home more often. There is almost ten years between June and me.
“Got some things I need to handle.” I release my hold on her. She bounces on her heels, full of energy, making her cowboy boots click on the wood floor.
“So it’s not because you missed me.” June gives her best innocent expression.
“I’ve missed you, brat.” I ruffle her hair. She bats my hand away.
“I just did my hair. I’m going out tonight.”
“A date?” My big brother instincts immediately kick in. No one told me she was dating. I know everyone in this town. Since I’ve been gone, newbies have moved to Cottonwood Creek, but I still keep up on the people coming and going. My family lives here.
“Not a date.” She rolls her eyes at me while finger-combing her hair. “I’m twenty-one now, and it’s dollar shots at the Backwoods Brew.” It’s probably a good thing I don’t visit more, because June wouldn’t have much of a social life if I did.
“Jackson, is that you?” I hear my mom call before she rounds the corner with flour on her cheeks and apron. She is always in the kitchen.
“Thought I’d swing by and see everyone.” Mom wraps her arms around me, giving me a tight hug. She might be tiny, but the woman could squeeze you to death with a hug if she wanted.