Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 118459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 474(@250wpm)___ 395(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 474(@250wpm)___ 395(@300wpm)
He doesn’t say anything, but I know he’s trying to keep himself in check. He cracks his knuckles, his elbows on his denim-covered legs. His vision is focused on something across the room as he listens to me.
“She volunteered last night and I . . . I don’t want to. It feels like I’m losing every battle in my life, Crew. But what can I do? I can barely afford to survive at this point and the best I’m gonna be able to do is work at Ficht’s and the office when I can just so they keep me employed and I—”
“Stop.”
“What?”
“Stop rambling.”
“Rambling? If you don’t want to hear what I have to say, don’t ask.”
His jaw pulses as he studies me. He searches my face and starts to bring a hand up, but drops it back to his lap. “You’re moving in with me.”
“What?”
I know my mouth is sitting agape, but I can’t help it. I can’t believe he just said that. Of all the reactions I might have anticipated, that was not one of them.
“You and Ever are moving in with me,” he repeats. “Jules, I’m done playing games with ya. You two aren’t moving in with some neighbor lady when I’m here. No fucking way.”
“She’s not just ‘some neighbor.’ Olivia has been a blessing to me.”
“She’s good to ya. I know. But we are family.”
I scoff. “No, you and Everleigh are family. We,” I say, motioning between us, “are not.”
“Semantics.” His gaze narrows. “Look, if it makes you feel better, then fine. Let me do this for my family. Let me do this for Everleigh and Gage. Let me do what’s right by them, Julia. All it’ll do is help you out in the long run.”
“Crew . . .” I start to argue with him, but there’s something about the way he’s looking at me that makes me want to hear him out.
“I’ve pretty much done wrong by everyone in my life. I know this. I know you don’t trust me and you have every right not to.” The shadows across his face darken, and his voice lowers. “But give me a chance to make some things right. Give me a chance to do something I’m proud of, for once.” He smiles to himself. “Give me a chance to man up.”
My heart twists in my chest. I’ve not heard Crew talk like this in a long time. It reminds me of a Crew from many years ago before he left to wrestle. Everyone would come up to him to hear about his fights and exploits around town. But late at night when we’d lay in bed, he’d tell me different stories. They would be stripped down, without the fanfare, and sometimes he’d question whether he should’ve done it or not. I could see that he wasn’t just the bad boy everyone thought. I spent a lot of time wondering why he acted out like he did when he was so clearly more down deep.
I thought this Crew was long gone.
“You and me, we don’t have anybody else,” he says. His eyes soften and he smiles sadly. “I’m not asking ya to be nice to me. I’m not asking ya to trust me. I’m not asking ya to like me or to not give me shit.”
His smile brightens a bit, and I can’t help but grin back. “Good. Because that’ll never happen anyway.” I laugh.
“I’m also not asking ya to move in with me. I’m telling ya that’s what’s gonna happen.”
Maybe it’s because he seems so genuine. Maybe it’s because I’m exhausted. Or maybe the antiseptic odor of the hospital has demolished too many of my brain cells. But whatever the reason, I don’t argue. But I don’t agree, either.
It’s probably another mistake on my part, but it can just be chalked up with the rest of them.
SIXTEEN
JULIA
The afternoon light pours in through the windows. The bank is bustling, patrons going in and out, men sitting behind large desks and laughing loudly from the offices lining the walls.
I drag my phone out of my purse and send a text to Olivia. I hate being away from Ever, but I have to do this, and I need to know she’s okay. Her response is immediate:
Olivia: She’s coloring and watching cartoons. Everything’s fine.
If only.
My hands shake as a man announces my name from a doorway. I drop the phone into my bag and stand, smoothing my shirt. I try to smile back at him, but I’m sure it’s a grimace.
I follow him through the door and down a long hallway. Each step gives me another moment to rethink my decision. I fight the urge to run from the building and jump in my car. I want to leave. I desperately want to leave. But I know the solution to a few of my problems is here and I have to go through with this.