Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 58736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
My sister grins.
“You seen your mother?” He cut all contact with the woman when he took Paige from her care. I hated him for it at the time, but now I am glad he did. I would hate to see Paige broken the way I am. Her soul is too kind for that to happen to her.
“No.”
Glenn nods, happy with that answer.
“Time to go, Paige. Say goodbye to your brother.”
“I want to stay. I can help, August. Please, let me help.”
“That’s not a good idea. We have plans,” Glenn says.
“It’s fine, squeak. Another time, I’m sure.”
Glenn grins. “Yes, another time.”
Paige wraps her arms around my waist again before she pulls back, and I watch as they both depart, leaving me alone once again.
I’m used to solitude, so it makes no difference.
The stares and the whispers are what I expected. But dealing with it isn’t something I was mentally prepared for. Before I was locked away, I got the same reactions, but not to this extent. Now everyone knows who I am, so when I walk into the grocery store to buy some food for the house, women hold their purses a little tighter, and the cashier flinches when he sees me.
I head straight to the back to pick up the staples—bread, milk, and snacks. Basically, just enough so I don’t have to come back here anytime soon.
“You need to leave,” a voice pipes up from behind me.
When I turn, I see a rent-a-cop dressed in blue, holding onto his utility belt like Batman as he stares at me. He’s old, and in one movement, I could have him on the floor. Instead, I bite my tongue and stroll past him, going straight to the cashier with the groceries I have in hand.
He follows me, his boots clicking behind me.
The cashier glances at the asshole rent-a-cop before looking directly at me.
“Leave,” the fake cop, or should I say security guard, barks behind me again.
“I need to purchase this, then I’ll leave,” I reply, biting my cheek a little too hard, so much so I taste the metallic tang of blood. It’s the only thing stopping me from turning around and showing him who I really am.
But I’m changing.
I have to.
The old me was dangerous and unpredictable. I need to be a better me. Otherwise, I’ll end up where I just left.
“You aren’t welcome here,” he snarls.
I give the cashier a grin, ignoring the rent-a-cop. “Ring me up, so I can leave,” I tell him.
He’s young, and his eyes shift behind me again, where I know the rent-a-cop is standing.
“No, leave,” the young guy says.
Fuck! I clutch my wallet in my hand and think how easy it would be to simply knock them both the fuck out. I could walk out with the stuff I want and not care, but I want to be better than that. Better than these two knuckleheads.
However, I won’t because that’s exactly what they want. And one wrong move will lead me back to the one place I just escaped from.
And I do not want to go back.
Stepping back, I turn and march out. As soon as I step out the door, my stomach growls. I ordered takeout last night, and I am fucking starving now, but I can’t keep wasting my money on takeout. At least not until I find a job.
“Here.” I turn to see a dark-haired beauty standing in front of me, sunglasses covering her face as she holds a paper bag out to me. “Take it, August. Before my hand falls off.”
I take the bag and check inside. It’s full of everything I was trying to buy. As I look back up, Rylee is staring at me through her glasses. Then she turns and strolls away. I watch as she hotfoots it to her expensive car. And just before she gets in, I call out to her, “Rich girl.”
She turns back. “Yes?” Her nose is scrunched up at my choice of name for her.
“I’m not your fucking charity case,” I spit out.
Rylee shakes her head before she slides in her car and drives off. A part of me wants to throw the shit at her car, but I know better. I need food. And despite her being a rich girl, she is fucking hot and generous, even though I don’t want to admit that right now.
“You’ve done heaps,” Noah says the next day as he steps inside. He checks around, his hands by his sides, exuding so much confidence it’s almost enough to make me physically ill.
“Yep,” Is all I reply.
Noah walks to the back door and views the yard, which I have torn to pieces and flattened. Not even a bush is standing where it used to be.
“How are you going with getting supplies?” he asks. “I heard about the supermarket.”
“Of course you did. She can’t keep her mouth shut.”