Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 82411 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82411 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
“I want to go,” I tell Kincaid.
“Get your bag then,” he says.
Chapter 32
Beth
The ride to the shelter is silent. I don’t know why I expected anything different from Newton. I’m not exactly friends with the man, but he hasn’t ever been around me and at least attempted to carry on small talk.
Maybe the silent treatment is what happens once the connection to the club is severed. I know he didn’t have time to speak with Derrick this morning, but that doesn’t mean everyone in the club hadn’t planned my exit while he was gone last night.
I cringe at the idea of a group of them getting together to formulate a plan of how to get rid of me, but I guess I made it easy on all of them by being packed and ready to go this morning.
I do my best to focus on that rather than where my mind wants to take me. Just the thought of another woman being responsible for keeping him busy for hours and hours last night makes my skin crawl.
I realize I should’ve looked him over better, but what could I do if he had marks on his skin from another woman? Not a damn thing, that’s what.
I blow out an irritated breath when Newton takes the left-hand turn toward the shelter. Although he turns his eyes in my direction for a second, the attention doesn’t last long.
I don’t immediately climb out of the SUV when he pulls up to the curb in front of the shelter. I have a million questions I want to ask the man, but I don’t know how close he is to Derrick. They could be the best of friends or they’re simply coworkers. The realization that I don’t know hardly anything about the man I’m married to hits me like a ton of bricks.
I want to know if there’s a chance Derrick and I could work things out. I want to know his history with women. He mentioned me being his first wife, but what was it about me that made him want to cross that line? I know it was a challenge to him, and he admitted to being the type of man who had a hard time passing up a bet, but he honestly wasn’t that drunk. It was hours from when he stopped drinking until we stood in front of Andrew and repeated those vows.
Maybe I’m placing hope where there isn’t any hope to be found.
Newton doesn’t say a word as I pull out my phone, and the silent treatment is beginning to feel very personal. Despite what Emmalyn said about always being welcome at Cerberus, it seems that some of the members haven’t gotten the memo. Either that or she’s the one not in the know.
I pull up the bus schedule on my phone, but I don’t feel a hint of relief when I see that there’s a bus leaving later this evening that will help me get back to Lindell. Even in my mind, I can’t consider the place home any longer. What I can do is go back and make a better plan for getting out of town for good, a plan that doesn’t include having to depend on anyone else for success.
After I click purchase on a ticket, I put my phone back into the back pocket of my jeans.
“I’m going to help one of the women here with a couple of classes,” I tell him. “You don’t have to stick around.”
He frowns and I read it as him being irritated that I’d even think I was worth considering since what Derrick and I have is now over. I guess I should be lucky to have gotten a ride at all.
“I bought a bus ticket for this evening. I’d like a ride to the station if that would be okay.”
His frown deepens, but he doesn’t argue with me one way or the other as I climb out of the SUV.
“You can leave that in here,” he says when I open the back passenger door to get my suitcase.
I don’t know why I’m reluctant to leave my items with him. I highly doubt the man has any use for women’s clothing, and since I’m not a very sentimental person, there’s nothing in there that I could lose that would be more than a small inconvenience.
I nod at him, not wanting to disrespect his wishes by pulling my suitcase out.
He doesn’t pull away from the curb when I walk up the sidewalk. Rather I hear the driver’s side door close, and when I look back over my shoulder, he’s standing at the front of the vehicle, looking around the neighborhood.
“That’s not your man,” Brielle says, only standing in the doorway long enough to get a glimpse over my shoulder.
I know she’s been working really hard on not being fearful of everything outside of the house, but it has been a very slow process for her. Although I don’t know her story, I get the feeling she was kept trapped or was held prisoner from the outside world for a very long time.