Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 68366 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68366 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
“I knew it,” I say.
“But get this, when I called the rental agency, they said that this car was not rented out. So the guy goes to check, and the plate was stolen off the car,” Grady says. “We have two of the guys going over there to check the surveillance footage. I’ll keep you posted.”
“Thank you,” I say and hang up.
“What in the fuck is going on?” Billy says.
“I have no idea,” I say and look upstairs, “but whatever it is, those two should never be alone.” I want to go up and check on her. I want to make sure she is okay. Instead, I turn around and head for the front door. “I’ll be in touch,” I say right before I slam the door behind me.
Chapter Fourteen
Kallie
“Four days.” I hear moaned from beside me while I answer my last email from work. “It’s been four days and nothing.”
I look over my laptop at her. “I don’t even know what you are talking about.” I grab my cup of coffee and take a sip. I’m sitting at Casey’s kitchen table while we work. We have been alternating working from my parents’ and Casey’s.
“One, it’s been four days since we’ve been outside.” As she starts talking, she gets up to go to the fridge and takes out the bottle of white wine that I know she put in there. I look over her shoulder at the clock. It’s just a bit after noon.
“We were outside yesterday.” I smile at her, and she glares at me as she stands at the island. “Okay, fine, walking to my parents’ house and then sitting on the back porch is not being outside.”
“Thank you,” she says, drinking more wine and then taking a big gulp. “It’s also been four days since Casey kissed me.”
I close my eyes tight. “Eww.”
“I know, I know,” she says, sitting at the table now with the bottle of wine in one hand and the glass in the other, “but there is literally no one else to talk to about this.” I look at her. “I have you and your mother.” I put my hand in front of my mouth. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to be like I want to bone your son.”
“You shouldn’t say that to anyone,” I say, and she shakes her head.
“This is crazy,” she says. “I’m living in his house. I sleep under his roof.”
“Okay,” I say, confused.
“I just …” She looks down. “What does he even do?”
I swallow down, and I think about what to tell her. “He does a little bit of everything.” I mean, technically it’s the truth. He does do a little bit of everything. I wait for her to ask me what in the hell that means, but she doesn’t.
Olivia looks at me, pinching her eyebrows together. “We are living together and nothing. It’s just,” she says, shaking her head, “I just, it took my mind off everything.”
“Oh my gosh.” I reach out to hold her hand. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Um, I think you had enough of your own shit going on.” She looks at me. “Kallie, I can’t even begin to think how you feel being here around him.”
“It’s fine.” I shrug. “It is what it is, and I have to accept it.”
“Accepting it and having it flaunted in your face every second is enough to have you jump off a bridge.” She takes a sip of her wine.
“If only there was a bridge I could jump off,” I joke with her. I don’t tell her that I’ve cried every single night. I don’t tell her that no matter how many times I tell myself not to think about him, it usually lasts maybe three minutes before another memory I’ve buried assaults me. I don’t tell her that I moved out of my bedroom and into the spare room at night because just the thought of sleeping in the bed we used to sleep in makes my chest get tight. I don’t tell her that I’ve had five panic attacks since my last one. I keep it to myself, just as I have everything else.
“Seriously.” She takes another sip. “He holds me all night long.”
“How are you sleeping?” I ask, and she looks down at her hands.
“I’ve never slept better,” she says softly. “I mean, I’m leaving, so it’s stupid to get involved.” She fidgets with the label on the wine. “Maybe it’s a good thing.”
“He’s never going to leave the farm,” I say. “It’s his baby.”
“I would never expect him to.” She looks at me as the door opens, and the man of the hour comes in.
“Hey there,” he says. Tossing his baseball hat on the table, he bends down and kisses me on the cheek, then walks to her. I’m waiting to see what she does, and instead of just waiting for him to kiss her, she tilts her head, offering him her cheek. “Darlin’.” His southern voice comes out.