Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 137077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
“I already did.” I hold up my phone even though he can’t see the text I sent Cameron. Just one little letter—X. But Cameron, Grace, and I know the code. It’s what had me rushing to her side at Hannah’s. And hopefully, Grace called Cole and he understood the message. “The calvary is on their way. Probably the police too. I will press charges for harassment, stalking, trespassing, breaking and entering, and whatever else I can.”
I have no idea what I can do legally and am totally talking out of my ass, but I mean every word. Whatever hell I can put Austin through is well-deserved at this point, and I have no qualms about laying out every single one of his appearances, calls, ‘requests’ for money, and veiled threats if it means I’ll never see him again.
He yanks his feet from the coffee table, sitting forward. “You wouldn’t.”
I level my gaze at him, making sure he can see that there is zero hesitation here. “I will. And I’ll file a complaint with the state, which means Beth is gonna find out exactly where you’ve been and what you’ve been up to. Think that’ll be enough to finally make her leave you? And the children? They’re gonna get placed with someone else, anyone else but you.” I shake my head, frowning like I’m sad. “And how will you survive without those monthly checks? I mean, you might end up homeless, bouncing from couch to couch, never getting enough to eat, and praying that one day, you’ll live a better life.”
I look around Cameron’s formal living room as if it’s my own, pretending for just a moment to prove my point. I lived that life I’m describing, and I got out. It took a lot of hard work, a bit of luck, and several truly good people taking a chance on me, which I did my best to be worthy of.
Austin isn’t capable of a tenth of that, and he knows it.
I can see the fear in his eyes as he realizes he’s overplayed his hand. “Rye, let’s not be hasty. I just wanted to see how you were doing, and it looks like things are going well for you, so I’ll just be on my way. No harm, no foul, yeah?”
He stands, wiping his hands on his jeans, telegraphing that his palms are sweaty.
But it’s too late.
I can hear the sirens in the distance. And the nearly silent garage door opener is whirring quietly.
I didn’t need him. I stood up to my biggest bully myself, thanks to the hope he’s built in me. But even though I did it on my own, I can’t help but smile because… Cameron’s home.
CAMERON
Ten Minutes Ago
My phone rings through my car’s speakers and Grace’s name pops up on the screen on my dash. I push a button to answer. “Hey, honey. I’ll be home soon.”
“Dad!”
Her tone instantly erases the smile from my lips. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. It just felt weird, like when you walk into a room and everyone goes quiet and you think they were talking about you. That’s what it felt like.”
Grace is rambling, her voice going in and out like she’s not fully talking into the phone. “Grace. I need you to tell me what’s wrong,” I say sternly.
“We got home from the barn and Riley was making dinner while I got in the shower—”
“Faster,” I grit out, trying to keep my voice steady. But my foot is already unconsciously pressing the gas pedal down.
“There’s a guy here. He acted like he knew Riley, but her face was wrong. I think she’s scared of him or something? She told me to call Uncle Cole and tell him that we’d be late for babysitting because her friend is here. But, Dad… we’re not babysitting tonight. She was already making dinner. That’s weird, right?”
Riley told Grace to call Cole? Not me? There’s something about that that bugs me, but also, calling Cole is signal enough that something’s wrong, especially with it being under the guise of skipping some imaginary babysitting gig.
“Where is Riley now?” I ask.
“The fancy living room. She’s in the doorway, and I can’t see the guy so he must be in there. But she told him to get the fudge out, but she used the real word.” She lowers her voice, barely whispering, “Dad, something’s wrong. Like really wrong.”
I don’t know what in the hell is going on at my house, but my priority is Grace. “Okay, I’m on my way. I’m going to call Cole. What I need you to do is, go into your bathroom and lock the door. Don’t open it for anyone except me or Uncle Cole, okay?”
“Okay, but Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m scared.” Her voice is small, and I can hear it catching in her throat.
I take a big inhale, her words a punch to my gut. “I know, but it’s going to be okay. Just hide for me, okay?” Telling my daughter to hide for her safety is a fear I’ve never known and a sense of uselessness I never want to feel again. Dread creeps through me, cold ice filling my veins.