Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 74469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
“Get out!” I shout, and grabbing hold of the hideous woman, I drag her to the door and shove her so hard she falls into the hallway. I slam the door shut, and when I turn to Brie, her eyes are on me, fear and shame, making her look devastated. “Brie.” Her name is nothing but a plea on my lips.
“L-l-leave,” she stammers through the sobs wracking her.
“No.” I move closer, and it makes a pained look flash over her face.
The door slams open, and Brie’s bitch of a mother glares at me. “How dare you! I’ll call the police.”
I walk back to her, and not caring that I’m threatening a woman, I growl, “Call them. We’ll show them the cuts on her head and tell them what an abusive bitch you are. I’m sure you’d look great in orange.”
My words hit the spot because she steps back from me, sneering, “You’re both so damn dramatic. It’s not like she’ll actually go through with it. God give me strength!”
I shove her out of the room, growling, “Get the fuck out.”
I turn back to Brie and see that she’s still holding on to the belt. I slowly inch closer until I’m right outside the closet and hold a hand out to Brie. “Please don’t. I can help you.”
Brie shakes her head. “You s-saw it.”
“It doesn’t matter.” I keep my hand stretched out to her. “Please, Brie.”
“It matters to me,” she whispers, tightening her grip on the belt.
God, what can I say to make her calm down?
“Remember what we spoke about last night? You have me,” I remind her of the moment we shared. “You’re not alone anymore.”
I see the hesitation in her eyes and take another step forward until I can reach her hands. Wrapping mine around hers, I pull them away from the belt.
Her sobs grow harder as I pull her out of the closet, and the moment I’m able to wrap my arms around her, the suffocating hold that was crushing my heart eases a little.
“I’m so sorry that happened,” I say because someone has to apologize to her, and it sure as hell won’t be that bastard. I glance at the clothes scattered on the floor and pulling back from Brie, I ask, “Do you have a bag so we can pack your stuff?” She hesitates, and it has me adding, “I’m not leaving you here. You’re coming with me.”
“But…” she bites her bottom lip, tears still spilling over her cheeks, “I’m a mess.”
“Not to me.” My words make her eyes dart up to mine. I close the small distance between us, and framing her face, I say, “You’re a beautiful girl that’s been treated like shit. You deserve better, Brie.”
Brie’s mom throws a trash bag into the room and sneers, “Pack your shit and get out of my house.”
I grab it and begin to stuff clothes into it. It only takes us a couple of minutes because Brie fills an old school bag as well.
When we’re done, I grab Brie’s hand and drag her out of the room. When we reach the front door, the bitch barks, “What? Not even a goodbye to the woman who raised you.”
Brie begins to glance over her shoulder, but I snap, “Don’t. She doesn’t deserve shit from you.”
I toss the bags onto the back of the truck, and once we’ve climbed inside, I reverse as quickly as I can.
From now on, I’ll look after Brie, and God help the person who tries to hurt her again.
It’s only when we pull into my driveway that I realize what just happened.
Brie was going to commit suicide, and I managed to stop her.
I stopped her.
The thought shudders through me.
I bring the truck to a standstill and reaching for Brie, I pull her against my chest. I bury my face in her neck and hold onto her for dear life.
I could’ve saved Brady if only he’d given me the chance.
Chapter 12
BRIE
There are no words to describe the chaos inside of me. It feels like a tornado just swept through me, only leaving devastation and death behind. The death of the last of my self-esteem.
Colton holds me for so long that by the time he pulls back, it’s like the sun is shining over what's left of the destruction. You can see every piece of debris scattered over an unrecognizable life.
And yet, there’s a smile playing around Colton’s lips, and as he stares at me, he whispers, “Thank you.”
I frown because I don’t understand why he’d say that.
“Thank you for letting me help you.” His voice is hoarse with emotion, and it makes the lump in my throat swell.
He opens the door and climbs out of the truck, so I do the same. I grab one bag while Colton gets the other, and then I turn to look at the Lawsons’ house.