Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 37728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
“Message received loud and clear.” My words are gruff, and thankfully, she knows my fury isn’t geared toward her. I’d cut my damn heart out for Birdie before I’d ever think of hurting her.
4
BIRDIE
I wring my hands together as I sit down on my mom’s floral couch. It’s the same one she’s had since we moved to the farm all those years ago. Us Robertson women are built differently. We didn’t come from a background where spending frivolously was a luxury. We watched our pennies, lived within our means, and only bought what we needed.
While my childhood wasn’t always the easiest on Mom, she made it work. I never knew she was struggling. She made it look like we were living the good life. There was no starving, no me coming home without her home, my clothes were nice even if they were thrifted. She made it work—dance parties in the kitchen, picnics in the living room on Friday nights along with a movie, and on the rare occurrences she had to work on the weekends, well, she’d take me with her, then we’d do something fun afterward.
“Lane, sit next to me, please?” He’s treating me like I’m made of glass, which I understand. The bruising is bad, and while I’d like to say it doesn’t hurt, that would be a bald-faced lie. The drive from Colorado to Arrowleaf was not easy, especially with the traffic in the city. Then, I obviously had to hide everything from Mom, another task that had me on edge, attempting to ebb some of the pain without holding myself.
“Birdie, baby. I’ll sit in the chair. I don’t want to jostle you any more than I already have.” I’d laugh if it didn’t hurt.
“Shut up and come sit next to me. I’m fine. Today is better than yesterday.” I grab the pillow, place it across my chest, and hold it to my body. Tully told me the best thing to do is to keep my ribs unwrapped, take as many deep breaths as possible, and not stay in one position too long. Well, that was easier said than done with the six-hour drive that took closer to seven. “What I’m going to tell you has to stay between us. There’s an open investigation, and I was told the less others know, the better for the time being.”
“I’m not liking this, Birdie, not at fucking all.” Lane finally sits down and runs his fingers through his hair while breathing out what seems like the longest breath possible. I know what he’s doing. Lane Johnson is struggling to get himself under control.
“I’m okay.” I pause, trying to figure out where to begin that won’t have him ready to go back to his house, grab his baseball bat or shotgun, and go after my boss and his son.
“Not buying it, Birdie, not in the fucking least.” He looks at me, really looks at me. His blue eyes are the shade of the sky without a cloud in sight. They can change from light to dark depending on his moods and also what he’s wearing.
“Well, I guess you’re not wrong there, but I will be okay. I’m home, even though I didn’t think it would take being beaten to bring me home.” I press the pillow tighter, trying to block the emotions out, and Lane, the patient man he is, waits until I’m ready to continue.
“I was leaving Sherman Digital when it all went down. The owner’s son asked if I wanted to grab a cup of coffee. I already had plans. Rocky was waiting for me at doggy day care. So, I told him no, but he proceeded to ask me out again, this time for drinks. I politely declined.
“Like I said, Rocky needed to be picked up, and my creep radar was already going off. So I slowly walked toward my car. He followed me the entire time. Apparently, Sherman Jr. doesn’t know what no means. Once I made it to my car, things went from bad to worse.
“My keys weren’t in my hand like they usually are, and he grabbed me when I was digging through my purse for them. I didn’t see him coming. My fight-or-flight instinct did nothing for me. When he grabbed me, I was in complete shock.”
I blink back tears, remembering the way he grabbed my upper arm, spinning me around because I went silent on him. I figured remaining quiet would be better than to poke the bear.
“You don’t have to tell me if it’s too hard for you, Birdie.” Lane slides closer, his hand covering mine on my lap. He threads our fingers together and holds mine in his.
“It’s alright. My keys ended up being my saving grace once I finally wrapped my hands around them inside my bag. Of course I lost my footing, ending up on the ground. And it was either protect my body while he was in a fit of rage or use the pepper spray on my key ring.” That’s when Sherman Jr. went after me, kicking me in my stomach before using his foot to step on me at the same time I sprayed him in the face.” I take a deep breath or as much as I can with the bruising and continue with my story wanting to get it over and done with.