Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“Mr. Fucking Perfect,” he says, then slams the door and heads to his house.
We keep going like that all year. We don’t talk, not really, but he always asks me why I’m there, why I give a fuck, and the truth is, I don’t have the answer to that yet.
There are times I’m not on shift, but it’s gotten so…routine, that when he’s at the bar, they’ll just call me instead of the department, otherwise he’d get arrested.
And I always go.
I don’t know why other than I feel like something happened between us that night. I saw him broken down in a way I’m not sure anyone else has…and he let me in. I don’t ever want him to be in a situation where he’s that low and he’s alone.
On the next anniversary of Ella’s death, I go back to the campsite, and Easton is there.
I let him cry, yell, whatever he needs, and when he wears himself down, he lets me hold him until he falls asleep.
The whole next year is more of the same. I’m the friend he won’t allow himself to believe he has, the person he finds a way to go to, though neither of us understands it. Sometimes I feel like I’m the only person Easton Swift has, and we hardly even have real conversations.
And I know he’s always waiting for that moment where I give up on him, where I don’t show up when he needs me, because he doesn’t believe he’s worth it.
But that moment won’t come—somehow, I know he is worth it.
CHAPTER ONE
Easton
Present day
I hate having to call Morgan and tell him I’ve been arrested. He just came back to Birchbark this summer because our dad had a stroke. He has enough on his plate dealing with a father who wants to control him and Rhett, but who wants nothing to do with me. And Morgan’s complicated relationship with Rhett isn’t much easier. Morgan’s finally starting to be happy—has admitted his feelings for his best friend, Dusty, whom he’s probably been in love with since before I was born, and they’re together.
The last thing he needs to deal with is me.
I’m the last thing anyone should have to deal with.
Still, I call because it’s not me I need him to take care of. It’s my dog, Pretty Girl.
“Hello?” Morgan answers, voice rough with sleep.
“I got arrested. I’m fine. I just need you to go take care of Pretty Girl in the morning. She’s gonna need out, and I don’t want her to be alone.”
“What about you?” Morgan asks. Since he’s been gone for ten years, he’s not tired of me yet. There’s no doubt in my mind that he will be at some point.
“Who cares? Take care of my dog, Morgan. I’m counting on you. I…” Don’t ask for things often…need to make sure she’s okay…don’t know how to reach out. I’m doing my best here.
Fortunately, Morgan doesn’t make me find words—something that’s not always easy for me to do. “We’ll make sure she’s taken care of, but I’m not just hanging you out to dry. What happened?”
Does it really matter? I’m always in the wrong, even when I’m not. But then, whose fault is it but mine? Yeah, the motherfucker I beat deserved it, but I could have found a better way to deal with it. My impulsivity is all on me. “Me.” I sigh. I happened. I always happen.
“I’ll call Archer,” I hear Dusty say in the background.
My heart rate spikes. I can’t figure out how Archer Thorn hasn’t gotten sick of me yet, why in the hell he wastes his time with me at all, other than him thinking it’s his job to fix the world. He thinks he let his cousin die when it wasn’t his fault, and now he’s trying to save me.
Why do I let him try?
Because it’s easier this way. Eventually, he’ll realize I’m not worth it and leave me alone.
I hate it when you talk about yourself like that, Ella says in my head, but I ignore her. I can’t handle talking to her right now.
“Fuck. I’m not even in Birchbark. I’m in Lilington. Just take care of Pretty Girl,” I tell them. “Promise me.”
“Yeah, of course we will.”
I breathe out a sigh of relief. “Gotta go.” I end the call before my time is even up. “I’m done,” I tell the officer, who takes me back to my cell. My face fucking hurts, my swollen eye throbbing the worst. Maybe I should have let them bring a doctor to check me out.
Of course you should have.
I can’t do this right now, El.
I try and close my eyes, but my head aches too much for me to sleep. I’m not sure how much time has passed before I hear, “Get up, Swift.”
“No.” If he wants me up, someone is here. I should have known not to call Morgan, should have known to just leave it alone, but then what would I have done about Pretty Girl? She shouldn’t have to suffer because of my issues.